


Yes, Just Like This

by gottalovev



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: (including Morgan), Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Amnesia, Anal Sex, Angst with a Happy Ending, BAMF Tony Stark, Bar Room Brawl, Civil War Fix-It, Everyone Needs A Hug, First Kiss, First Time, Getting Together, Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, IN SPACE!, Jealous Steve Rogers, M/M, Mentions of other characters - Freeform, Nebula & Tony Stark Friendship, Oblivious Tony Stark, Oral Sex, Partying, Past Pepper Potts/Tony Stark, Pining, Post-Avengers: Endgame (Movie), Road Trips, Sharing a Bed, Tony Stark Lives
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-27
Updated: 2020-11-27
Packaged: 2021-03-09 18:28:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 35,423
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27740767
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gottalovev/pseuds/gottalovev
Summary: Tony wakes up in a hospital on another planet missing his memories of the last eleven years. It's now 2023, and he learns the Avengers saved half the universe. Unfortunately, not everything he forgot is good news.(An Endgame Alternate Universe AND Civil-War fix-it and get together story, weaved through a space road trip with Steve, Carol and Nebula. Complete but cut in 5 chapters for ease of reading.)
Relationships: Steve Rogers/Tony Stark
Comments: 85
Kudos: 325
Collections: 2020 Captain America/Iron Man Big Bang, Marvel Trumps Hate 2019





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Cap-IM Big Bang, for which I had the joy of being paired with the amazing Amberdreams and Dragonk. The art is embedded in the story, but I urge you to go shower these two amazing artists with love ♥
> 
> Amberdreams: [AO3](https://archiveofourown.org/works/27728161), [Live Journal](https://amberdreams.livejournal.com/654680.html), and [Dreamwidth](https://amberdreams.dreamwidth.org/929382.html). 
> 
> Dragonk: on [AO3](https://archiveofourown.org/works/27742204/chapters/67902868) and [Tumblr](https://dksartz.tumblr.com/post/635956960105299968/its-officially-our-posting-day-and-so-here-is-my). 
> 
> (art has spoilers for the story! also the text below!)
> 
> The next three paragraphs of notes are slightly spoilery but give context to the tags, if needed. If you wish, you can skip them and dive right in!
> 
> First, this is an Endgame AU as Tony survives the snap. The rest of the backstory holds true to the movies (except that Tony and Pepper are separated).
> 
> The space road trip is mostly fun, but it has a couple of bumps on the ride as it addresses the fallout of CA: Civil War. In my opinion it stays fairly balanced, even though we are in Tony's head and he's hurt and angry (again), but if you are sensitive on the issue, tread with care. In a way, it's a chance to make it right once more. Make it better, in fact.
> 
> As for medical accuracy: be aware that the amnesia and its resolution are used as a trope. Please accept that it's… comic book-ish, let's say it like that. ;)
> 
> Happy reading!

The first coherent thought Tony forms when he opens his eyes and glances around is that there sure is a lot of white. Ceiling, walls, floor, furniture, the bed he's lying in, the sheets, and his own shirt… all of it is white as snow. The only color at all, except for Tony's own skin, is Steve sitting in the chair beside the bed in jeans and a black T-shirt, his whole person popping out in the otherwise monochrome room. Cap is fast asleep, head bowed with his chin resting against his chest, massive arms crossed, and Tony takes a moment to observe him. He looks good, even had his hair cut. Steve should dress casually more often instead of wearing his old man clothes; it suits him.

This seems like a vigil, but they aren’t in a hospital. There's no equipment, no medicine—no hospital smells and sounds either—and Tony feels perfectly fine, without even a headache. Is it a hotel? It makes no sense that Steve would watch over him while he sleeps. But then again, Tony doesn't recall how he got here at all. The last thing he remembers is how he worked on the armor after a board meeting—always a good way to vent his frustrations— and then went to bed. At a reasonable hour too.

"Hey, Cap," he says. 

He tries to be gentle, but Steve rears back as he wakes up, immediately alert. He almost falls out of the chair, but the moment he locks eyes with Tony, he relaxes his shoulders and smiles.

“Hi. How are you feeling?"

Definitely a vigil then. Tony must have a severe concussion because he's missing the memory of whatever battle brought him here. It must have been a doozie because Cap looks tired, with lines at the corners of his eyes that Tony has never noticed before. It's as if he aged several years.

"Not bad, considering," Tony says. "I'm surprised I don't have a headache."

A woman enters the room and she strikes Tony speechless. She's a cute brunette with blue eyes and a friendly demeanor, dressed all in white too, but her skin is magenta. A deep, beautiful color, really, but Tony is freaking out. Something’s very wrong.

"Hello, Mister Stark," she says. "It's fantastic to see you awake. I'm Dina, and I'll do a quick exam if you don't mind."

So Tony's in a hospital after all, or a clinic. The nurse, or maybe she’s a doctor, peers into his eyes with a little instrument that he's never seen before. The exam is a good idea because they aren't working right.

"Hi. Please do."

"Everything looks fine," she says after moving the device near his face for a few seconds and shining a bright light into his eyes. It makes them water, and Tony has to blink away black spots when she stops. "How are you feeling?"

"Um. I feel fine, but you might have to look again," he says, gesturing to his eyes, "because there's something wrong with my color perception."

Tony doesn't get it because his own skin is the right hue. Hell, Steve looks fine too, from the blue of his irises to the gold of his hair. Whatever the problem with Tony's vision is, it's selective.

She peers into his eyes again, frowning, and her worry is still there when she leans back. "The readings are normal."

"There just is, I swear," Tony says.

Dina smiles reassuringly. "I believe you. We'll do more tests," she promises before leaving the room.

Steve seems concerned. "That's weird."

"I know!" Tony exclaims. "Why would it change one person to bright purple and not the rest?"

"She's a Krylorian," Steve says, looking at him strangely like Tony’s the one not making sense instead of the other way around.

"A what?"

"Krylorian? Like Bereet, Rhomann's wife?" Steve says slowly, as if surprised that Tony doesn't get it. "We met them on Xandar."

Tony blinks several times. "I think I have a huge concussion because you do _not_ make sense."

He reflexively touches the arc reactor in his chest, seeking the comfort it has become… and it's like the bottom of Tony's stomach drops to the floor. He can't feel it. What the fuck happened?

"Holy shit, oh my God," Tony says, throat tight as he fights with his white shirt. The damn garment isn’t a traditional hospital gown; it has snaps in the front that Tony opens until he can see his chest. The arc reactor _isn’t there_. There’s a mess of scars, but they’re mostly white. Old news. But then his eyes catch on his right hand and arm, covered with much fresher marks, slightly raised and pink. "Fuck, it's gone! What happened to me? Am I dying?" 

"Tony, please calm down," Steve says slowly but firmly. He scoots his chair closer to the bed and his hand hovers close to Tony, as if he wants to reach and touch but doesn't dare. "You had the arc reactor removed years ago, remember?"

What? That’s downright impossible. He looked into it. He would bleed out before the best surgeon could entirely remove the shrapnel. And did Steve say years ago? What the hell is going on here?!

"No, no, I don't remember that at all!" Tony shouts, voice high and panicky. 

There just isn’t enough air, and his heart is racing so much. Soon the missing arc reactor won't matter anymore because his ticker will fail anyway. Oh, God, this is a nightmare. Tony sits up in bed, which makes his head turn, but then curls forward, forehead on his knees and hands on his own neck. 

"Breathe. Calm down," Steve says several times in a row. He puts a big, warm hand in the middle of Tony's back, just resting there. It helps. "Everything is okay. They removed the shrapnel; you're in no danger."

The calmness of Steve's tone is reassuring, which helps stave off the anxiety attack. Until Tony thinks about how he forgot important events, and he spirals all over again. It takes several long minutes, but Tony brings himself under control. There's no need to panic because Steve says there’s no immediate danger. If Tony doesn't need the reactor anymore, that’s actually excellent news for his health. At least for his heart. Tony pulls on his right sleeve and sees that the scarring on his arm is extensive. It looks like severe burns but in a pattern he's never quite seen before, as if lightning ran under his skin. As far as scarring goes, it's not hideous at least. Almost looks like intentional scar marks, intricate and delicate. It doesn't hurt either. Thank God for small favors.

"What the hell happened to me?" 

"You saved the universe, Tony." Steve moves his hand up to Tony's neck and he squeezes gently. "Take a moment, and when you're feeling better, I'll tell you all about it. I promise."

**

He's missing eleven years of his life. Eleven years.

The lovely Dina comes back with equipment that looks like it came right out of Star Trek for thankfully non-invasive tests. When Tony focuses on the shiny new tech, it helps him not spiral into panic again. _Eleven years._

The doctor, regular-toned this time, tells Tony that it's uncertain that he'll get all of his memories back. Even advanced alien races find the consequences of traumatic brain injury strange and unpredictable. They treated the neuron and mild axonal damage, plus the bruising of his brain, and mitigated possible secondary symptoms such as headaches, nausea, fatigue, concentration issues, irritability, depression, and the like. But everything about how Tony's brain manages the information, old and new, is out of their hands. The doctor advises him not to force himself to remember as it's too early. Tony's brain needs rest, and the best strategy is to let memories come back to him a bit at a time. Getting told stories and looking at images is alright, but he has to stop if his head hurts. Tony's sure that the hole in his memories is going to drive him crazy, to be honest.

For now, he learns that he's on the planet Banturia, recuperating. It's huge and Tony wants to know everything that led him here. Steve relents quickly even when he reminds Tony he’s supposed to take it easy and says that they arrived by spaceship, as they're traveling with friends. 

"Who?" Tony asks. "The Asgardians?" 

It would be great to see Thor.

Steve shakes his head no. So whoever their travel companions are, it's not anyone that Tony remembers. 

"You'll see them later," Steve says. "This place allows only one visitor at a time."

Tony's lucky that it was Steve holding vigil because waking up as an amnesiac on an alien planet without an arc reactor and surrounded by only strangers would have been terrifying. A shiver of unease travels down his spine just thinking about it.

"How did I end up in the hospital anyway?"

"By being a big damn hero, how else?" Steve says with a soft smile. 

The sentiment is sweet, and the praise warms Tony right up. Since when did Steve look at him with such fondness? From Tony's outdated perspective they’re friendly, teammates, but that's about it. It's a pleasant surprise to know that spending another eleven years together as Avengers leads to this much affection.

"I'm sure that you can tell me more than that." 

"Of course. We had a skirmish with a group of Krees, another race of aliens. Let's just say our friends Carol and Nebula, the ones we're traveling with, aren’t fans and the feeling is mutual. During the fight, you received an energy blast to the head while protecting Nebula. You're lucky the armor took the hit and that it didn't kill you on the spot." 

Tony winces. Repairing the suit without his tools and workshop will be a pain in the ass.

"Where is it, anyway? The armor?" He wouldn't want it to fall into the wrong hands. It must be in the spaceship with their alien friends. How is that for an unexpected sentence?

"Oh!" Steve perks up. "Yeah, of course, I'll show you. Do you think you can stand up for one minute?"

That's a good question, but yes, Tony feels fine. He'd love to grab several bottles of whatever they use as painkillers here on Banturia.

"It's close?" Tony asks. Maybe the suit is in sentry mode in the corridor or just outside.

"Very." 

Steve rummages through a small bag at his feet and takes out… an arc reactor. Or something very similar, glowing a reassuring blue. 

"Let me see—" 

He tries reaching for it, but Steve shakes his head.

"No, just a second. This is cool. You can look at it all you want later."

"Spoilsport," Tony protests. It's _his_ tech, after all.

"You won't say that in a second." 

Tony's white hospital shirt is still unbuttoned, and Steve presses the device right onto his skin. It immediately sticks to his chest as if it's mounted on a magnet, and a shiver tickles the back of Tony's brain. It's hard to describe; it's more a concept than a clear thought, but it's… potential, possibilities. A lot of them, maybe endless; it almost gives him vertigo. 

"Huh," Tony says, looking down at the reactor. He feels _complete_. And it's not just because of the familiarity of having tech in the middle of his torso again.

He's about to ask where the armor to go with it is when the arc reactor moves. No, that's not it—particles are pouring out of it, extending in all directions. Nanites. Can't be anything else. It's also the coolest thing Tony has ever seen. 

Tony can only watch in awe as the nanites morph to create all the hydraulics, wiring, electronics, and eventually the plating that make up the armor. It starts from his chest and expands, and in less than a minute he's completely encased. The HUD lights up, and there it is: all the usual readings of a functional suit. Tony's heart is racing because it's a huge development. He's so, so far from this technology at the moment, and eleven years seems like a ridiculously short amount of time to get there.

"That never gets old," Steve says, looking suitably reverent. He looks awed by the armor, which is enough to make a man gloat (even if Tony doesn't remember how he managed this miracle).

"You’re damn right," Tony replies. 

From what he sees on the display, this is the Mark XIX, down to the last inch. But it's impossible that in eleven years Iron Man's design hasn't changed. What formed is the last armor that Tony remembers, though, so there is logic to it. It also means that the nanites follow his actual thoughts. 

"JARVIS, do you have the armor's last configuration stored in memory?" he asks.

He sees Steve's face fall an instant before a feminine voice speaks up from inside the suit.

"Hiya, boss, glad to know you're awake. I'm FRIDAY, and I run this suit."

"Oh," Tony says, surprised. 

The plan was for JARVIS to run all of his armors, but maybe that's not how it turned out. Tony's gut warns him not to ask too many questions, especially with the worry on Steve's face at the moment. Something happened to JARVIS, most likely. It's best that he doesn't learn about it right this second to avoid another anxiety attack. Tony will pretend, for now, that JARVIS just isn’t in this suit but is safely back on Earth.

"Hi, FRIDAY," Tony says. "Sorry about that. I scrambled my noggin a little."

"I noticed when you passed out on me," FRIDAY says.

He's immediately charmed. It seems that Tony's incapable of coding an AI without an attitude, and he wouldn't want it any other way.

"Sassy. But back to the initial question: do you have the last configuration of the armor stored in memory?"

"Of course. You want me to deploy it? Or just show a video?" 

"How about both?" 

The suit that looked so normal a second ago, once finished forming, immediately changes. It's closer to the body, more streamlined. What Tony can see on the hub shows that it's advanced beyond his wildest dreams. FRIDAY is showing him steadicam footage of what must be a lab test, where Tony's morphing the armor continuously. One moment it looks like Veronica, then has big flight stabilizers, only to change to hovering cannons separate from the main suit, and so on. It's mesmerizing. It's also a lot of info for his recuperating brain, and health vitals pop up about his blood pressure. The video immediately stops.

"I think that's enough for now," FRIDAY says. 

She's broadcasting outside the suit because Steve frowns. 

"I’m okay," Tony reassures him, willing the helmet away. Having less visual stimulus helps lessen the throbbing in his head, and Tony takes a deep breath. Maybe a bit shaky.

Steve still hovers as if worried Tony might faint. It would be insulting if he wasn't feeling bad.

"Maybe you should think the nanites back into the case." Steve bites his lip, looking guilty. "I shouldn't have pushed you to use it yet."

"What? No!" Tony protests. It seems he can order the armor to return to the reactor without a problem. It's just as fascinating as deploying it. "I'm glad you showed me. It's awesome."

"It is," Steve agrees warmly.

After a moment of hesitation, Tony detaches the device from his chest. He'd feel safer with it, but the direct link to his brain is probably more than he should take on for the moment.

"Here," he tells Steve. "Hang onto it for me."

Steve takes it, serious. "You know I would never let anyone take it."

"Of course." The armor is a part of him, and all the Avengers know how he feels about people taking his stuff without consent. Which brings another question to mind. He points at the reactor now in Steve's big hand. "It responds to you too, right?"

Steve’s eyes snap up to Tony's. He looks weirdly surprised by the question. "No, it's yours."

He might have holes in his memories, but Tony's confident that his core traits haven't changed. Protecting people, especially the ones he cares about, is what he strives to do. It wouldn't make any sense to build technology so advanced and versatile that’s coded to him only. 

"I wouldn't be so sure. Try it."

"No," Steve says, suddenly looking sad. "It can't."

"Sure it can. I must have a brain implant to control it by thought alone, but hold it in your hand and ask for something. I bet it’ll work."

Steve shakes his head, still looking like someone punted his puppy, but after a long moment, he looks at the device and prompts, "Make a gauntlet."

Lo and behold, the nanites pour out to cover Steve's hand until the reactor itself has disappeared and changed into a functional gauntlet, repulsor included. 

"I told you," Tony crows.

"Oh," Steve says in a little voice. Hell, he seems ready to cry, and it makes Tony worry again. 

"Why are you surprised by this? Of course it would protect you! I've always built my armors like that. That’s how Rhodey got his first War Machine suit; there's no way he could have taken a suit if I hadn't allowed it."

"You know us," Steve says with a tremulous smile. "It's not always easy. You never said it would respond to me, so I assumed it wouldn't."

Ah, so they didn't stop butting heads then. That’s to be expected; they’re both very opinionated people.

"Well, I'm not surprised it does," Tony declares. He climbs back onto his hospital bed, leaning on the pillows. The enormity of the situation, everything he's missing, is solidifying. "Eleven years," he says out loud, to test how it sounds again. If there's someone who can relate, it's Steve. "It's nothing compared to your seventy, but…" 

"I wouldn't say that. Sure, I jumped eras and had to start anew, but I didn't lose memories."

The situation is indeed different, and Tony nods.

"Alright, give me the CliffsNotes version. What was that about saving the universe? They came back, didn't they?" 

That’s been Tony's worst nightmare since the Battle of New York.

"Yes, they did. Like you warned us."

It's probably poor form to be relieved that he wasn't engrossed in a paranoid delusion. 

"And we won." 

Steve winces. "We lost at first. Then we tried again and won."

Tony would ask for an explanation, but he requested the CliffsNotes version and isn’t sure he can handle too much information right now. 

"Did we lose people?" he asks instead.

Unfortunately, the answer is clear as day by the way Steve's eyes dim.

"Nat." 

That lone name is like a record scratch. 

"What?!" 

Tony is stunned, unable to believe it. He was so sure that Natasha would survive them all.

"Yeah. She sacrificed herself for everyone else." 

They stay silent for a minute and Tony's chest is constricting just thinking of it. God, not Natasha. They'd come a long way since she infiltrated Stark Industries, and he thought of her as the sister he never had. Steve looks shaken too.

"I'm not surprised," Tony finally manages to say. "She always acted as if she had something to prove or atone for, even if she’d done it a hundred times over. Damn. Anyone else?" He's afraid to hear the answer, but knows it's better to know now rather than later.

Steve rubs his neck. "Well, yes. You've met FRIDAY."

And ouch, there it is. JARVIS is gone—that's the confirmation, and it feels callous that it hurts just as badly as learning about Natasha. 

"Oh," Tony says, trying not to cry. Shit. JARVIS was as close as he'd ever have to a child, and he had grown up to become such a fantastic being. No diss to FRIDAY, whom Tony doesn't know yet, but he's going to miss JARVIS so much.

"I'm sorry," Steve says. "I know it's a lot to take in."

"Inevitable." 

The only reassurance that he takes from the news is that Steve went from Nat to JARVIS, so he presumes that everyone else is fine. Steve would have said something happened to Rhodey, Pepper, or Happy, so Tony doesn't ask.

"You should rest," Steve says. "Hopefully your memories will come right back."

Tony has so many questions, but it's true that he's tired. 

"Yeah, okay. Will the nurse or doctor know how to reach you?"

"I'm not going anywhere," Steve says, jaw set.

It's heartwarming to find out they’ve become such good friends. Rationally, Tony knows that he should insist that Steve get some rest too, but it's reassuring that he'll stay right here.

"Okay. Thanks," Tony says, stifling a yawn.

"Anytime."

**

The next morning Tony, dressed in his own clothes and practically ready to go, stops by the bathroom and almost has a heart attack. The man in the mirror is _old_. Those wrinkles and gray hair don't lie; they’re concrete proof that Tony lost an entire decade. He must have made a sound of distress because Steve knocks on the door.

"Tony, are you okay?"

He unlocks the latch but can't stop staring at his reflection, following the lines fanning from the corners of his eyes with his index finger. So many of them, so deep too.

"Oh my God!" Tony breathes out, touching his temples.

Over his shoulder, Steve goes from concerned to amused.

"Don't worry," he says. "You still figure in the most beautiful lists."

Over the last years, Tony has tried to keep his vanity in check, but so much of his identity used to be about his image that it's hard to let go. Steve's words are more of a reassurance than he knows. But even so, he looks like an old man!

"It gives a certain gravitas, sure, but…"

"Come on, Tony," Steve teases, shoulder-checking him lightly. "Silver fox looks good on you."

Okay, so that is cause for a little preening and makes Tony perk up as he catches Steve’s eye in the mirror. He seems totally honest, and Tony's heart might be beating faster because of that. In the six months since the Battle of New York, especially after he separated from Pepper, Tony's teenage crush on Captain America has revived. 

"Let's go," Steve says, leaving the bathroom. "They're waiting for us on the ship."

"Those friends of ours that you don't want to either describe or tell me how we knew each other—"

"Seeing them without background info might jog your memories," Steve says with a shrug. "And if not, I still think it's pretty cool that you get to experience having a first impression all over again."

"Okay, fine," Tony says. 

He says his goodbyes to the delightful Dina, who blushes even pinker when Tony lays it on thick and kisses her hand. It's adorable.

"I see you’re feeling better," Steve says wryly when they take their leave.

"Maybe," Tony says with a wink that makes Steve shake his head, amused. 

Once they leave the hospital, though, Tony's too busy taking in an alien metropolis on a completely different planet to worry about much else. It's the similarities to Earth that fascinates him, how this part of the city looks a lot like Akihabara but dotted with aliens of varied skin tones. The space port they reach after a ride on an ultra fast bullet train is another thing entirely. Tony keeps looking left and right wishing he had more eyes to take in all of the ships. Some are utilitarian and kind of bulky, but there are also sexy, sleek little numbers that he itches to touch. Steve leads him to a relatively small black and silver ship that is all curves and fins. It's beautiful, really.

"Please tell me they let me fiddle with it," he says with some desperation. He really hopes Steve says yes, because being unable to learn about all of this tech would be torture. 

"The ship? Sure," Steve says. 

"Awesome." Tony caresses the hull when they climb aboard the ramp leading into a small cargo bay. The door that leads to the habitable part of the spacecraft opens to reveal a woman. She's blond, fit, and in a uniform in blue and red with gold highlights and a star on her chest. 

"There you are!" she says brightly. 

Right behind her is another… woman? Or android, maybe, since she clearly has mechanical parts. She's dressed in burgundy leather, but the most remarkable thing is that her skin is at least two shades of deep blue. She has no hair, and her intense black eyes are now fixated on Tony.

"Tony, this is Carol and Nebula," Steve says.

"I’m aware I should know you, but for the moment I don't," Tony says. "Sorry about that."

"Nebula is a skilled Luphomoïd warrior. Superhuman strength, durability, and agility. She can fire concussive electroshock charges." 

The description seems to please her. 

"We almost died together the first time we met," Nebula tells Tony, her tone a little clipped. She's tilting her head to the side as she observes him, and she reminds Tony of a bird.

"Oh," Tony says. "Big battle, I suppose."

"Yes, on Titan. And then we nearly starved to death." 

Yikes, that sounds bad. 

"I'm glad we made it." 

"And that's because I saved your asses in the nick of time," Carol adds, looking smug. "But you and me? We don't know each other much. Captain Carol Danvers," she says, extending a hand to shake. She's unnaturally warm, and her grip is strong and sure.

"Her call sign is Captain Marvel," Steve says. "Super strength, cosmic energy manipulation that allows her to go binary, which means flight, photon blasts, et cetera. Biggest powerhouse we have for planetary defense, I'd say. When she deigns to come back to Earth, that is." 

"Yeah, yeah. I do what I can, I can't be everywhere at once," Carol replies with an eye roll.

"Excuses, excuses," Steve teases. "One should prioritize their home planet, I say." 

The exchange is easy; they must have known each other for years. It also tells Tony that Carol is not alien.

"Captain, huh? That must get confusing.”

"It's not been so bad," Steve says.

"You really remember nothing?" Carol asks.

"It's as if I went to bed last night in November 2012 and then woke up eleven years later."

"Huh," Carol says. "I could photon blast you in the head, see if it shakes something loose."

Nebula glares at Carol; heck, she moves slightly between them too as if to protect him. But Tony grins at the joke: he's always loved smartasses. 

"You're great. We need you, you're new blood. I like it." 

"You've said that before," she says with a smirk. 

That's a good sign, isn't it? It means that his memories are just locked somewhere inside his head, ready to come out. He turns to Steve, hopeful, but finds him looking sad again. There’s a story there, surely, but it’ll need more investigating another time. 

"We'll get along fine," Tony declares to Carol and Nebula. "You too, Bluebell, I can sense it."

"We do, to my surprise," Nebula says with a huff. "And now that we’ve exchanged platitudes, you should rest." She grabs Tony's upper arm and tugs. "Come, I'll guide you to your quarters."

"But I wanted—"

"It's my ship, and I'll explain what we've been working on to increase her speed once you’ve taken a nap." Clearly she knows him enough to anticipate his requests.

"Promise?" he asks with his best puppy eyes.

"Yes." 

Is that a little smile? It's barely there, a light upward tilt of one corner of her mouth, but somehow Tony guesses that Nebula rarely allows her guard to come down. It fills him with warm joy that he amuses her. 

"Fine, then. Show me my bunk."

Who knows, a familiar place might help with the memory thing.

**

As infuriating as it is—because he's not a child—the nap helps. The downside is that Tony is groggy upon waking up and starts a quest for coffee. Surely they didn't leave Earth without some. The ship isn't big, which makes it easy to find the dining area. There's a counter slash table next to a set of cupboards and what Tony supposes are appliances. Heck, one looks a lot like a microwave. Steve is there too, occupying a stool bolted to the ground and eating a power bar. He glances up from a tablet as soon as Tony shuffles in.

"Hey," Tony says.

Steve’s eyes linger a second on Tony's hair. Tony pats it down and realizes it's all over the place.

"Electric socket look?" Tony says.

"Kinda," Steve says, amused. "Nice nap?"

"Good enough. I didn't have much of a choice. Nebula practically tucked me in." 

He let her put him in bed without complaint because of the glint in her eye that Tony recognized from Rhodey in his most intense Papa Bear moods. Tony doesn't know if he and Nebula are close, but his injury worried her—that he got hurt to protect her must factor in too. She needed to make sure he was okay, which is sweet. It had been only slightly awkward.

"I'm not surprised. She's very protective of you," Steve says fondly. 

It's a pleasant thing to learn. 

"So how did we end up in space with those two gals?" Tony asks. Carol said they didn't know each other much, and Nebula almost treats Tony like a child. On the other hand, there was good banter between the two captains earlier. "Are you and Carol together?"

Steve rears back in surprise. "What? No."

"If you say so." Tony raises his hands placatingly. 

"Very much no," Steve insists. "In fact, I think there's something brewing between Carol and Rhodes."

"Really?" Tony stretches out the word for emphasis, intrigued by the gossip. Rhodey likes his women headstrong, so it's not surprising.

"That's the vibe I got." 

Steve lifts a shoulder. It's so weird to hear him say “vibe.” He adapted over the years, it seems. 

"And what about you? Did you leave a girl back on Earth?" 

Tony's curious now. Surely someone nabbed Captain America in the last eleven years.

"No, I didn't," Steve says with a crooked smile. "I'm very much single and not looking to meet new people. Especially not in space."

"I don't know, that magenta nurse was lovely," Tony says, reminiscing. In his active playboy days, he would have tried to seduce her for the thrill and novelty alone. Maybe slightly crass, but it didn't hurt anyone if the attraction was mutual. But a possibility suddenly occurs to him and halts his musings, and he feels like a complete tool. "Um. Did I leave a girl back on Earth?" He thinks of Pepper, but the last time she called them off, it felt irreconcilable. 

"Not that I know of, no," Steve says. 

And that's a relief. He’s determined to get his memories back, but it would be terrible to have forgotten a significant other (though mainly for that person). Tony is glad he won't hurt someone like that.

"Okay, good to know. So back to my question: what are we in space for?"

"As I said, we won a big battle. A lot because of you. It had an impact all over the universe, and several worlds, some who had never heard of Earth before, want to meet us. Carol convinced Fury it was a convenient way to build good credibility if we ever need help in the future."

Interesting. 

"So it's a promo tour." 

"You can say that. But Nebula could also bring us back to Earth."

Tony hums in consideration, appreciating the possibility of an out. But memories aside, he feels great. He can do a little PR without a problem. Plus, if Tony has a script and lets the others do most of the talking, they could finish the tour with no one being the wiser. 

"How many stops do we have?" Tony asks.

"We scheduled three weeks, not to be away from Earth for too long. Week One is done, with two stops, Xantar and Banturia. There are three more stops left—Sovereign, Iantus, and Knowhere—before we head back to Earth."

"Banturia’s the place with the hospital."

"Yeah. We left for Sovereign, but that's when we got caught in a skirmish with the Krees."

"What's the Kree's problem anyway?"

"A lot, but they have a contentious history with Earth and with Carol in particular. Well, to be fair, with Nebula too as she used to be the second-in-command to a bigwig, but mainly they’re after Carol. Long story, but when they ambushed us two days ago, we were just in the way."

"Huh. Okay, so hopefully they won't try that again."

After looking around the small kitchenette, Tony found the fridge—and a juice box!—and is now trying to work out the coffee maker. He located it by smell, honed by decades of caffeine addiction. Steve guesses his goal and kindly shows him how to prepare a cup. 

"It's going to take a minute," Steve says as Tony stares at the whirring machine. There are promising liquid sounds.

"You’d think an alien ship would have a fast coffee maker."

"Oh, that's Earth-based. You insisted.”

"Are you saying there's no coffee in space?" Tony puts a hand on his chest as if shocked and appalled (he is a little).

"There's other stuff," Steve replies with a shrug. "Excellent tea, and with more kick than any coffee you've ever had. You said so yourself."

"I feel like a traitor to my religion," Tony says. "But remind me to try it anyway."

"Will do." Steve shakes his now empty wrapper. "Hungry?"

"Is that the only thing we have for breakfast?" 

"Pretty much, but there are many flavors and they're good." 

Steve opens a cupboard to show him the variety. 

"So, I noticed that you didn't mention Asgard on the tour list," Tony says, peeling off the wrapper of his oat, nuts, and apple bar. "I suppose Thor is taking care of it?"

Steve winces. "Ah, no. Thor had to battle his sister—"

Tony almost swallows the bar wrong.

"—Hela. Apparently Odin imprisoned her in Hel for millennia so Thor didn’t know she existed, but she escaped and wanted to control Asgard and bring Ragnarok. Thor killed her, but Asgard was destroyed."

Whoa, that's harsh. 

"They must have leveled the cities."

Steve grimaces. "Exploded the planet. Part of the population fled, but they lost a lot of people. The refugees relocated to Earth."

"Shit, that's huge. Poor Thor, it must have been quite a blow." 

Thor spoke of his home planet with such pride and fondness. Tony is disappointed that he never got to see Asgard. Or maybe he did. He should ask at one point.

"Thor’s had a rough few years. He lost Asgard, his sister, both his parents, his friends, and Loki, sort of."

"Shit. Wait, what do you mean, sort of?"

Steve is gazing in the distance, subdued. Probably taking in how much Thor lost. Tony wonders if Steve was witness to any of it. 

"Not our Loki," he says, distracted.

Another record scratch. 

"Whoa, whoa, whoa." Tony makes the timeout motion with his hands. "You’re telling me there’s more than one Loki running around?"

"It's complicated." Steve scrunches his nose. Before Tony can protest, he raises a hand. "I told you I'd explain, so I'll try to do so as simply as I can." 

Tony waits as he chews his power bar. They do taste good. 

"You remember in the hospital how I said we lost first?"

Tony remembers that well. It's everything before two days ago that’s blank. "Yeah, but we got a second chance and won." 

"Right. So Thanos, Nebula’s dad, was the guy leading the alien army we fought in New York. Loki was working for him. Thanos collected six gems called Infinity Stones that made him all powerful. He used them to cull half of all living beings throughout the universe. Humans, aliens, plants, animals, you name it." 

Steve is watching him closely while telling his story and if he wasn't so somber, Tony would think it's a prank. Six gems holding that much power...

"You're serious," Tony says after a few seconds, aghast. That amount of destruction isn’t even comprehensible. "Half? Of everything?"

"Gone in a fraction of a second."

"Jesus." He can't even imagine. "How can you say we won, after that?" 

"As I said, it's complicated. Thor killed Thanos when we found him again, but Thanos destroyed the stones before we got there. It took us several years to come up with a plan, but basically we went back in time and picked up the six stones before him."

"Someone figured out time travel," he says with disbelief.

The look that Steve gives him is fond and proud. "Yeah. You. In one evening."

Tony lets his eyebrows rise; not to toot his own horn, but that's pretty impressive. Fucking time travel. "Well, would you look at that?"

"Uh-huh. We had a time-space GPS, so to speak. So the plan was to travel back in time to known past locations of the stones, grab them, and use the stones ourselves to bring back everyone and everything lost in the Decimation."

"Jesus. But wouldn't that make divergent timelines and change everything?"

"Yeah, so to minimize the changes, we went back in time again after we were done and replaced the stones at the same moment we took it."

"That's completely nuts." 

So, so many things could have gone wrong!

"I know, but we were desperate. Where Loki comes in is when we went to New York in 2012 to get three stones. Our Loki died before the Decimation, but that one escaped with the Tesseract so he’s out there somewhere in his own time."

This is getting complicated. Tony rubs his forehead, hoping to hell that he doesn’t get a headache, but he wants to hear more. "But we got the Tesseract back." He understands it holds one of the stones.

"Nope, you and I went to Camp Lehigh in the seventies for it. Your idea," Steve says with a small quirk of his lips. He's clearly pleased that Tony is invested in the story.

"And then we pulled it off."

"It was complicated, but we did it. But all our messing about accidentally alerted past Thanos who managed to get to our time. We fought him again, and he almost got the stones, but you took them away from him and snapped Thanos and his army to dust to end it all."

Geez, that's a LOT to take in. Tony wishes he remembered. It must have been epic.

"Gotta say, that sounds pretty badass."

"It was, but it was also extremely dangerous. The power of the stones is so great, and it's not meant for humans. It burned both Thanos and the Hulk badly, and it should have killed you outright."

"Oh," Tony says, looking down at his arm. So that's what happened. "Then how..."

"It's possible to share the load of the power surge, so to speak. Fortunately Rhodes, Pepper, Spider-Man, Thor, and I were close enough to touch you or each other to bear the burden."

"Don’t tell me we all have the same battle scars," Tony says, pointing to the burns. 

Steve looks fine, but the serum would have healed him. Thor is a demi-god, and Tony doesn't know a Spider-Man and if he can heal like them or not. But what about Rhodey and Pepper? And why was Pepper in the battle? Not that he's surprised—she's always been courageous—but she was never interested in suiting up. 

"It hurt like hell, but no, we weren't injured. You took most of the hit for us." Steve shakes his head. "It was incredibly bold and dangerous but also entirely selfless. You were ready to die to save the universe from a second Decimation. We're just glad we linked with you because it's the only reason you survived."

"Well, thank you if I haven't said." Tony wants to squirm from all of that praise, especially coming from Steve. He’s longed to get his approval since they met… hell, probably since his childhood, thanks to Howard. 

"You did, and again, it was the least I could do," Steve says, earnestly. "Thank you, Tony. You're the reason we won."

"Please, I know that if you'd beaten me to the stones, you would have done the same.” 

His coffee is ready now, and he takes a well-needed gulp that lets him hide his face a bit. He feels as if he's blushing and it's embarrassing.

"I wish," Steve says, looking at Tony's arm. It's true that he might have healed. "I'm sorry you got hurt."

"It's alright. It's the risk of the job; we all know that. Though admittedly I seem to almost die a lot." Afghanistan, the reactor theft and fight with Stane, the palladium poisoning, the Battle of New York, now this...

"Yeah." Steve leans in to look at him in the eyes, serious. "Could you please, please stop? I can't take it anymore."

That's sweet, but something Tony can't guarantee. Heck, it's the whole reason he broke up with Pepper after the Battle of New York.

"You know I can't promise that," Tony says softly, reaching out to cover Steve's hand. 

To his surprise, Steve turns his hand up so their fingers intertwine, squeezing back. It does all sorts of things to Tony's insides to be holding hands with Captain America, especially when he's being looked at with so much affection. 

"I know," Steve says.

"I'll try to be more careful?" Tony offers. 

He's not surprised when one of Steve's eyebrows rises in disbelieving amusement. That didn't work with Pepper either.

"I would appreciate it. But at the same time, please never change."

And wow, that's so huge that Tony is immediately flustered. He untangles his hand, even as Steve seems reluctant to let go, to put it over his heart.

"Be still, my beating heart. How things change in eleven years." 

"I never told you enough how much I appreciate you," Steve says, being even more disarmingly genuine. Tony both eats it up and wants it to stop; he's growing deeply uncomfortable now, unsure what to do with a Steve who’s so open like this. "I'm trying to do it more, but you won't let me, most times."

"Because it's weird!" Tony exclaims. "Stop it." 

"Okay, okay." Steve raises his hands in surrender. Then his voice turns cheeky. "For now."

Tony lets out a disbelieving huff. 

"Alright, you cornball. What happened to the stiff-upper-lip Captain America I knew? That's what I'm wondering." 

He wasn't expecting an answer, but he gets one anyway.

"Hopefully he learned from his mistakes," Steve says, back to being serious. "And doesn't take you for granted anymore."

"Okay, and we're back at making things weird," Tony says, secretly delighted to hear Steve laugh. He salutes with his coffee and turns on his heels as he decides to explore the ship. Maybe Nebula will follow through and let him work on it too. 

"Have a nice day, Tony!"

"You too!" Tony replies, unable to stop the bounce in his step. 

God, he's close friends with Captain America, who thinks the world of him. It's hard to believe, but it sure feels wonderful.


	2. Chapter 2

"You don't speak a lot, do you?" Tony says at some point.

"And as always, you do it too much," Nebula replies. 

Tony's studying the engine schematics on the ship's computer and it's fascinating stuff. But he's curious about this woman, who keeps throwing him sideways glances only to look away when she's caught. 

"Fair enough," Tony says. He turns in his chair and rests his chin on his hand, watching her straight on. "I'm sorry I forgot." He feels as if he's letting Nebula down somehow. 

"That’s stupid. It's not your fault.”

'No, but it's frustrating.” 

He can feel there’s something between them, but he has no idea what it is. She cares in her own way, and Steve did say she was protective of him. Tony experienced it firsthand when she firmly put him to bed. It's definitely not a physical attraction, which he would recognize. Friendship, surely, but there’s a little extra that he can’t put his finger on and it's unnerving.

"We... could play a game?" she proposes. 

Her entire demeanor is a weird combination of eager, shy, and a little too blunt. But if it can make her relax, why not?

"Sure, do you have one in mind?"

"Yes." She looks around until she finds a piece of paper and folds it into a small triangle. She then sits across the table from him. "Get in position," she says, holding the paper triangle up with a mechanical finger, ready to flick it his way. Huh. Tony had no idea paper football was common throughout the galaxy.

"You're on," Tony says, forming a goal with his index fingers touching and thumbs up.

"You taught me a long time ago," Nebula says, which explains it.

"Cool. Have we played a lot?"

"Not that much, but I've practiced since. Mainly with Rhodey."

That makes Tony perk up. "Rhodey? How is he doing?" 

It would be great to have his best friend on board. Rhodey's always been fantastic at calming Tony down and constantly gives him perspective. 

"He's doing well, though busy with setting things right with everyone coming back," Nebula says before she freezes for a second, lowering her hand. "It's true, you don't remember—"

"It's okay," Tony says. "Steve just explained what happened. What did he call it… the Decimation? And then bringing half the universe back. Frankly, I'm still wrapping my head around that."

"He told you how it came to be?" she asks with interest, cocking her head.

"The stones, Thanos—" Nebula sneers at the name, making Tony pause. That's right. Her dad, Steve said. He won't touch that subject with a ten-foot pole. On the other hand, maybe they bonded over daddy issues. "He gave me the short version."

"I'm not surprised." 

It's clearly a diss based on the coldness of her tone, and it stumps Tony. She and Steve don't get along? This is all so confusing, and Tony knows that if he tries to ask questions now, without more insight on the problem, it’ll make her clam up. Distraction time it is, then. 

"Are you going to shoot or not?" he goads instead.

"Oh, I will. Get ready, Stark."

"I've been ready, Smurfette."

The nickname makes the side of her mouth curl up again, but this time in amusement. It was low-hanging fruit; she probably heard it from him before. She flicks the mock football and spins it in a perfect arc, right between his thumbs.

"Goal! Good job!" he exclaims.

She smiles outright at that, and Tony is utterly charmed by the joy on her face. It's a lovely look on her. He might lose on purpose, just to see more of it.

**

Later, Tony finds both Carol and Steve in the cockpit. Since the ship is cruising towards their destination on autopilot, they’re both busy on their tablets, but they look up when Tony enters.

"Stark," Carol greets him.

"Carol," he replies, but it doesn't fit. He rarely calls people by their given first names. "I'm curious, what do I usually call you?"

She taps her lower lip with her index finger as if she needs to think about it. "I'd say Danvers comes up the most."

"I disagree," Steve chimes in. "You rotate between Marvel, The Marvel, emphasis on 'The,' or Captain. But never Cap."

"Is that so," Tony says. He still thinks two captains must be confusing, and it's true that he can't imagine himself using Cap for anyone else but Steve. "Then what do I call you nowadays? Is Capsicle still in use?"

"Rogers, that I've heard," Carol says.

"Yeah. Mostly," Steve confirms, while not looking that thrilled about it. It's surprising to Tony; with how close they've become, Tony imagined he'd be more… creative. "But you haven't called me Capsicle in years, no."

"Too bad, it was a good nickname," Tony says, sitting in a chair to look out at the stars. 

In his late teens, Tony thought about becoming an astronaut. In the end, he didn't apply because Howard insisted he work at the company, but he wonders how his life would have turned out. Obie would have had free rein over Stark Industries, with no need to take him out. Surely, Tony would never have become Iron Man. Even though he's dreamed about going to space, now that he’s here Tony feels a deep malaise over how boundless it is. He doesn't flash back to the wormhole in New York all that much: there were tons of ships then, and it wasn't this empty. But the vastness outside the cockpit window almost gives him vertigo, and a strong impression of déjà vu, nonetheless. Unsettled, Tony rubs at his chest and has another brief moment of surprise at not feeling the arc reactor there. He keeps forgetting he got rid of it. 

"So, this is Nebula's ship," Tony says.

"Yes," Steve and Carol say simultaneously. 

"The Blaze," Steve adds.

"Where's yours?" Tony asks Carol. Steve implied that she didn't spend a lot of time on Earth.

"It's on Earth. It looks like this one, in fact. But I don't use it all that much."

"No, she mostly flies just by herself," Steve says, moving his hand, palm down, from right to left. "Zipping through the universe."

Carol rolls her eyes. "I have my suit." 

"What did you call the place we're going next again?" Tony asks Steve.

"Sovereign."

"It's the name of the planet and its people. They're a highly advanced civilization and respected as such. They also take themselves very seriously," Carol says. "As an advance notice, every one of them is the color gold. Maybe they let that get to their heads."

"If there's any mention of the Guardians, let's pretend we don't know them much," Steve says. "Likewise Nebula will stay on the Blaze, out of sight."

"The Guardians are Nebula’s group. They call themselves the Guardians of the Galaxy. Not Nebula’s idea," Carol says, anticipating his questions. "Their leader, Peter Quill is originally from Earth, and Gamora, Nebula’s sister, was part of the gang too. Thanos killed her to get a stone, and it's still a very sore subject, so it’d be best not to mention her in front of Nebula."

Tony must have understood that wrong. "Wait. Thanos murdered his own daughter?"

"The only way to get the Soul Stone on Vormir is to sacrifice someone you love. I'm still surprised that it worked for Thanos."

"Shit." Tony's lightheaded with revulsion. How disgusting do you have to be to sacrifice your own child for power? Just thinking about it makes him feel sick, and Tony doesn't even have a kid. But then he feels uneasy for a completely different reason. He turns to Steve. "But… if someone needs to be sacrificed to get that stone..."

Naked grief is all over Steve's face. "We didn't know that a death was what it took. It's how we lost Nat. She jumped to save Clint."

A heavy silence falls in the cockpit. Tony's not surprised by Natasha's sacrifice, not one bit. She always acted as if she had to repent for her past, even if she tried to appear unflappable. Tony can't imagine how much Clint must be hurting. Fuck. He must be racked with guilt, despite the fact that what she did allowed the Avengers to undo the Decimation. The more he learns about the battles with Thanos, the more Tony realizes how huge and complicated it was. He also hates how Steve visibly blames himself too, as he does every time a mission goes wrong. 

Looking for a distraction from the somber mood, Tony asks another question. "What do the Guardians of the Galaxy—I haven’t decided how I feel about that name, by the way—have to do with the golden people, and why will Nebula stay on the ship?"

"The Guardians had a contract with the Sovereigns where the payment was Nebula. The Sovereign captured her while she tried to steal a power source. Batteries. The Guardians did the job, picked up Nebula, but then stole the batteries too," Carol says.

"That would sour a relationship," Tony agrees. "And now the Sovereign want to meet us. "

"They're preoccupied with the balance of power between developed planets. Before our fight with Thanos, Earth was a non-entity on the universe's checkerboard, but we caught the Sovereign's attention by killing the Mad Titan, Thanos, who’s been a major player for decades."

"So it's a meet and greet with a covert dick-measuring contest." 

It makes both Carol and Steve laugh.

"Yeah. We were counting on you for the schmoozing," Carol says.

Ugh. 

"I've never been one for etiquette," Tony says.

"Bullshit," Steve protests with a scoff. "You know how to navigate those people with your eyes closed."

He's got a point: like it or not, Tony has done that dance for decades.

"How long until we're there?"

"We'll arrive tomorrow," Carol says. 

**

Meeting the Sovereign is indeed a grand affair. And yes, they take themselves very seriously. Tony has often boasted his own importance, mostly as a deflection, but these people bring it to the next level. Not only do they look down at them all as if they're nothing but evolved apes, but they're also putting on a show to hammer home their alleged superiority. 

As Carol said, each one of them is gold, but so is almost everything else. The palace and its landing pad gleam in the sunlight, and the gold is also predominant in the interior decor. Unsurprisingly, the vast dining room where they end up with the high priestess and dignitaries is more of the same, from floors to furniture, plates and cutlery, et cetera. They’re even served food that fit the color scheme. Tony wonders if they shit gold too. 

Frankly, Tony hates the Sovereign immediately, a sentiment that his companions seem to share. Steve, who is ever gracious in official functions, can barely muster a smile. Not to say that the Sovereign are warm and cuddly. On the contrary, they’re condescending and cold but also scrupulously polite. After a quick assessment, Tony decides to play the obsequious game. They think they're the bee's knees? Then he’ll give them what they think they deserve. 

His mother and the Jarvises drilled him from a very young age with the rules of etiquette in high society. It's highly cultural; who knows if he'll make a faux pas with an alien civilization. But there are basic rules that he figures he can't go wrong with. Throughout the meal, which has several courses, Tony always waits until they serve High Priestess Ayesha before imitating her and reaching for the correct utensils. He also never eats before her. Tony could be smoother but is intentionally a little clumsy, like a child at the adults’ table. He's certain that they’ve noticed his efforts when he catches the high priestess's right-hand man scoffing at him. Good. Let him take them for backwater hicks. He doesn't know if the others realized the game he's playing, but Tony is pleased to see that Carol and Steve are following his lead.

The Sovereign are assessing them right back, that much is clear. In his previous life, Tony might have showboated about the Avengers' accomplishments, especially the win against Thanos. Heck, having the bigger stick than the other guy and only having to fire once was his motto for a long time. Now? He's trying to make Earth seem uninteresting and feeble.

"This is very impressive," Tony says after the high priestess lists their superiority in this galaxy and how they rebuilt their world to be stronger after the fight with Ego, whoever that is. "I hope we can learn from you."

"After defeating Thanos?"

"Ah, but that was mostly luck. A series of circumstances that went our way, really. The first fight, pre-Decimation, happened on our planet, and let me tell you, we were woefully unprepared. We lost so badly." He shakes his head, looking at his lap while trying to show as much shame as he can. It's easy. Just hearing the story and imagining the disaster fills him with guilt, even if he doesn't remember the events themselves. Tony had known that it was coming; he can't believe they didn't prepare enough. "I'm certain you would have dealt with restoring the balance in the universe a lot faster than the five years it took us."

Before the space tour, as Tony calls it, the Avengers and Fury devised a strategy for what information could be shared about Earth and their fights. Tony agrees with the basic principles Steve relayed: there will be no discussion of the Time Heist, as they call it, with anyone. Mastering time travel is a powerful advantage, one they don't wish to disclose. So they built a separate cover story since no one but the Avengers knows that Thanos destroyed the stones and then died by Thor's hand right after the Decimation. There had been a ripple in the universe, but nothing more than rumors about the cause of it. 

"And how did you reverse the Decimation again?" Ayesha asks.

"After he destroyed half of everything, Thanos left Earth," Steve says.

The high priestess throws him an annoyed look. She asks the follow-up questions to Tony again, deciding that he's the only interlocutor worthy of her attention.

"And?"

"We eventually tracked him down with the stones’ energy signature. Mind you, we only succeeded because the six stones were in the same place. Their frequency showed on Carol's radar when she passed near Thanos's retirement planet."

"We've heard of you," the high priestess says, giving Carol a considering once-over. She's probably the only human who registered as a threat, pre-Thanos.

"Good things, I hope!" Carol says with a grin that’s a bit too aggressive for Tony's comfort. She doesn't appreciate being condescended at, which Tony gets, but the situation needs to be handled with care.

High Priestess Ayesha inclines her head very slightly, almost dismissively, and Tony hopes that everyone keeps their cool and bites their tongue. Hopefully Carol and Steve understand that Tony wants them to look borderline incompetent. No one wants those assholes to come and poke at Earth.

"Once Carol brought back Thanos's coordinates, we went to him. It was a desperate move, and we caught him off guard—probably because five years had passed. He must have thought we'd accepted our fate."

"You were persistent," Ayesha reluctantly admits. 

"That's pretty much the only thing we have going for us," Tony says with a shrug. "We took Thanos by surprise and snapped everything back while dusting him and his army, wherever they were at the time."

The fake story isn't that interesting, but he's still got the Sovereign in earshot drinking in every word. 

"And the stones?" the second-in-command asks.

And here's the Avenger's second-biggest lie. "I was so afraid that someone would use the stones again for destruction that I wished for them to disperse throughout the universe, hopefully never to be reunited."

In reality, in this timeline the stones don't exist anymore since Steve took them back to the past where they belonged. None of them miss the stones. They were nothing but trouble. Magic is a pain in the ass like that.

"You did this." 

Obviously the high priestess wouldn't have bet on that outcome (which, to be fair, never happened). She glances at Tony's hand.

"I never could have done it alone," Tony says while pulling on his sleeve so it covers the burns. "My team helped share the load."

Again, Ayesha’s attention goes to Carol. It's a safe assumption to make. Carol's powers would have allowed her to shoulder the burden all by herself if she'd reached Tony in time. On the other hand, Ayesha dismisses Steve completely who _did_ help. 

"Anyway," Tony says, gesturing as if saving the universe was just a fluke, "we're sure glad it worked out. And thank you so much for your invitation; it's been an honor to meet the great Sovereign people. Everything I've seen has been more impressive than we'd even heard about."

"You are welcome. We are grateful that order was restored, and if we can be of assistance…" The delivery lacks conviction, but it’s a definite win nonetheless. The Sovereign are so prideful, they wouldn't go back on their word, once given, without losing face. 

"We'd be so lucky. Thank you," Tony says, honestly pleased with himself. 

**

As soon as they've entered their ship to finally escape those tedious people, Carol digs at him goodnaturedly.

"Wow, Stark, I didn't know you could kiss ass like that!"

Tony throws his arms out wide, as if basking in the compliment. He's still on a high from acing the meeting, even without his memories.

"Meraviglia, my reputation as one of the most skilled ass worshippers in the Western world is verified and plenty earned," he says with a playful eyebrow waggle. Granted, those skills were used in a very different context, but still. "I've never had any complaints."

On his right, Steve curses. Tony glances over, surprised to see that Steve hit a shoulder on a door frame. To be fair, the openings are smaller than usual, and Steve is pinkish as if embarrassed he forgot about that.

"You okay?" Tony asks.

"Peachy," Steve says, blushing even more. "I haven't felt this invisible since 1943, though."

"They're stupid," Tony says with a head shake. "We'd only have to dye you gold, and you'd fit right in. Carol, you said they'd all shine, but not that everyone was also tall and beautiful. I can't believe I'm saying this, but so much physical beauty made everything borderline creepy."

"Very creepy," Nebula agrees, nose scrunching in disgust. "They're genetically engineered to be their version of perfection, but it doesn't even make up for their lack of personality." She pauses and her mouth lifts in a small smirk. "They despised Rocket."

"From the Guardians," Steve explains, noticing Tony’s confusion.

Carol's face lights up. "Oh, Tony doesn't know about Rocket!" He wonders what’s exciting about that. "Does anyone have a picture? Or better, a video?"

"I do," Steve says, grinning too. "Wait a second, you want to see this."

"What's so special about Rocket?" Tony asks.

"He's good with tech, like you," Nebula says. Even she looks amused. "Smartass. Loud. You two keep butting heads."

Steve's phone is a surprisingly large Stark Industries smartphone. It's a beauty. After poking at the thing for a minute, Steve selects whatever he wants to show and passes it over, still looking gleeful.

It's a video that was shot in a lab, judging by the workstations and various holograms. There are several people in the periphery including Rhodey—it's immensely reassuring to see him—but what Steve focused on while filming is Tony arguing with… is that a dressed-up racoon? That talks?

"No," Tony blurts out.

"Oh yes," Carol replies, cackling.

The raccoon, the infamous Rocket he supposes, is waving a wrench around and insulting Tony's intelligence. Of course Tony's giving back as good as he gets, in what looks like practiced banter. If he wasn't in the footage, Tony wouldn’t even believe this is real and would call out Steve for trying to punk him with a children's movie or something. Well, maybe not for kids, because the raccoon sure has a foul mouth. Tony's about to ask questions when he notices a walking tree. What in the fresh hell is that? Unfortunately, the camera focuses more on Tony than on the aliens, and he can hear Steve chuckling. 

A voice he doesn't know pipes up. "You're being stupid again."

"Shut up, Buck," Steve replies and the video cuts away. 

Carol is smirking and Steve looks flushed as he takes back the phone. But there's no time to analyze that. Tony's still fixated on a talking raccoon and a sentient tree.

"Is this real?"

"Yep," Carol says. "And there's weirder, believe me."

"I'm not sure I want to know, to be honest."

"Thor keeps calling Rocket a rabbit," Steve says, pocketing his phone. "It's hilarious." 

Tony hums but then has a sudden realization and perks up.

"Hey, I must have a phone too!" 

Probably one that has better footage. He doesn't miss how the others exchange a look. 

"He deserves to know," Nebula says, tilting her chin up.

That isn't foreboding at all. She makes it sound as if there's something big he hasn't been told yet, which must mean bad news. And if it's bad compared to the Decimation, which they've discussed...

"What?" Tony asks, anxiety rising.

"You do have a phone," Steve says. "Let's go get it. It's in your room."

As there was so much to see on the ship and then preparation for meeting the Sovereign kept them busy, Tony didn't even think to search his room for personal effects. Maybe he would have wondered earlier about it if one of the others used their own phones, but Steve's is the first he's seen since regaining consciousness in the hospital. 

It turns out that Tony's phone is in a compartment that slides out from the space beside his cot when you press on the wall. A bedside table drawer of sorts that he wouldn't have thought to look for.

"Here it is," Steve says, passing it over. 

Tony sits on the bed, as does Steve. 

He's surprised that the lock screen, when it appears, is a picture of a small girl. She doesn’t look older than four years old, though Tony's always been bad at judging ages. Incredibly cute, for sure, and something very strong and fond stirs in his gut just from seeing her.

"Look at this sweetheart," Tony croons. He's convinced he should know her, and it's frustrating when there's nothing in his mind to back it up.

"Yeah," Steve breathes. 

He's staring. Tony can feel his gaze, but he's too curious about the child to look back. The phone must recognize Tony's biosignature because it unlocks. The background has that little girl again, but in Pepper's arms this time, both smiling at the camera.

"Oh," Tony says, breathless. It's Pepper's daughter; it has to be. He loves her instantly, without reservation. "What's her name?"

There's a pause before Steve answers. 

"Morgan." He sounds subdued. "You don't remember?"

"Unfortunately, no."

Tony opens the image folder, and the girl is everywhere. Sometimes on her own, either posing or playing or just caught in a moment, but mostly with Pepper, Happy, Rhodey, or Nebula. And him. There are a lot of selfies where Tony is making silly faces with her or kissing her cheek or vice versa. His heart grows three sizes just seeing them so comfortable together. Who knew he could interact with a child like this?

As Tony scrolls back in time through the photo roll, the girl is constantly present, to the point where he wonders why Pepper lets him see her that much. He freezes when there's a picture of Morgan extending a Happy Father's Day card to the camera. Hell, there's a separate picture of the inside of the card itself, stating in shaky block letters, "I love you, Daddy. - Morgan." Shocked, he looks up at Steve who is staring back at him.

"Is she—" He wants to say “mine,” but it's too huge of a leap that he can't even voice it. No, it can't be.

"Yes. Your daughter, through and through. She's amazing."

It's like experiencing a blue screen, Tony doesn't know what to say, what to think. He has a _child_? With Pepper? What the hell was she thinking? He's not father material. Heck, he was sure he and Pepper were finished, though he had hoped for a reconciliation. 

"But… You said I didn’t have a girl back home!" Tony exclaims. 

What kind of father leaves his daughter to go on a space road trip? God, the pictures seem to show a nice and loving relationship, but if he ditched her like that... A shiver of unease goes down Tony's spine. He really, really hopes that he hasn’t fallen into the trap of being an absent parent. What was he thinking, having a child? Maybe she was an accident, but as soon as he thinks that, Tony chastises himself. Who cares if she was. Morgan is perfect.

"We were talking about romantic relationships," Steve stammers, eyes round. "As far as I know—"

"Why did you not tell me immediately that I have a daughter?" Tony says, hurt. He can't believe Steve hid something this big from him. 

Steve looks devastated, face ashen and blue eyes shiny with tears. "Tony, no, I wasn’t hiding it from you. I didn't want to upset—"

"Who are you to judge?" Tony snaps and Steve flinches back. 

"Please, Tony, I just... we thought—" Steve wrings his hands, distressed. "There’s so much you need to know. Let me—"

"No." Tony raises a palm up to stop Steve's words, which makes him close his mouth with a click. He can't believe that these supposed friends of his talked about a talking raccoon before they mentioned he was a father. He doesn't want to learn what else he missed in the last eleven years.

"But—" 

"I think I need to process this first," Tony says, raising the phone to show a picture of Pepper, Morgan, and him. God. They had a baby together. He still can't wrap his head around that.

"Of course," Steve says. He gets up, stiff as a board. "If you have any questions, I'll try to answer. The best I can."

"Okay."

Steve has barely left, letting the door close behind him, before Tony scrolls to the phone's most recent photos. Apart from Morgan, there are several shots of a teenager. The kid has his daughter on his back in one picture, both of them grinning at the camera. It makes Tony smile in return and gently touch the screen. He looks sweet, not minding at all that Morgan is clinging to him like a monkey. It surprises Tony to also see the same kid in a tight red-and-blue suit with a bit of gold and a spider on his chest. Is that just a costume? No, Steve talked about a Spider-Man in the battle with Thanos. It has to be him. More like Spider-Kid, though. What is he, twelve?

Dismissing him for now, Tony stops on pictures of War Machine and someone in a smaller armor, blue and gold and a lot sleeker. Nanotech, like his own, and Tony wonders who the hell he gave a suit to. That’s huge. He almost drops his phone when there's a shot of the open visor and it's _Pepper_. Holy shit. That's… even more unbelievable than the fact that he has a daughter, but there it is. Wow. It explains why Pepper was on the battlefield in the last battle with Thanos then. 

Still reeling, Tony leaves the photo roll to look at picture albums only to get another whiplash: he sees his and Pepper's wedding pictures. She's a stunning bride in a simple dress made of white lace while Tony is in a classic tuxedo. He can't stop looking at his own face, the way he’s beaming. He looks so happy. The date says September 2018, so it was before Morgan was born. But what the hell happened for Steve to say that Tony didn't have anyone at home? Tony checks his left hand and there's no wedding band on his ring finger—he would have noticed that immediately anyway—but no mark either. Playing detective in the camera roll again, Tony sees that it disappeared in the last six months. Divorced, then, or at least separated. It leaves a bitter taste in his mouth that he and Pepper didn't make it work, even with a kid.

Abandoning the pictures for now, Tony finds the messaging app and opens the thread with Pepper with apprehension. To his relief, the tone is very cordial. Hell, by several context clues, including how she repeatedly tells him to come up to help make dinner, it looks as if they’re still living together. Huh. Well, that's good for Morgan; she has both of her parents at home, and they’re friendly if not still friends. The messages with Rhodey could be copied and pasted from what Tony remembers last: a lot of “hi, miss you” or “goodnight” and plans to meet soon. They never had long text conversations since they prefer speaking to each other. Rhodey keeps requesting pictures of his godchild, though, which is cute. The same familiarity is present in the texts with Happy as well as a lot of mentions of checking on a certain Peter whom Tony doesn't know.

Curious, Tony seeks out texts with the other Avengers. His last exchange with Bruce is close to the top and has notes about tissue regeneration. He swallows with difficulty when he opens Natasha's conversation and sees that her second-to-last bubble says, "It's going to work, Shellhead" to which he replied, "Of course, what do you take me for?". She then ended the conversation and the thread itself with an emoji blowing a kiss. It's from nine weeks ago. He scrolls back to see they've had sporadic contact in the last five years, polite but with barely any banter. At least it got better in the last few weeks before her death. Something about that makes Tony uneasy, but then again he had retired and was busy raising a kid, so that might be it.

Thor isn’t on the contact list. Tony thought he would have solved the electricity surge problem by now, or maybe he did and Thor just doesn't want a phone. What is strange, though, is that Tony has to do a search to find Clint's thread: they haven't texted since 2015. He's shocked that his conversation with Steve stopped about a year later, in June 2016. Steve isn't a big texter from what he still remembers, but the last thing Tony said to him was "Come on, please call me. It's important!" and then nothing. What did Tony do for Steve to not want to talk to him? For seven years? And Clint too! Something happened, it must have, and Tony almost gets up to go ask questions, but he's not in the mood to learn how badly he fucked up. 

He's tired, his head is hurting, and he just went through several emotional whiplashes. There will be plenty of time to understand whatever the hell happened that cut him off from the other Avengers. He's also still angry with Steve and the others for not mentioning Morgan earlier, so he doesn’t want to socialize right now. 

Tony gets ready for bed and ends up looking at pictures and videos of his little girl until his eyelids grow heavy. She’s perfect, and he loves her so much. 

He wonders how he could ever leave her, even for three weeks.

**

The first thing that Tony does when he gets up is seek out Steve. He finds him exercising in the cargo section. Normally he would take a second to admire the flawless push-ups, but he's not in that kind of mood. Anyhow, Steve hears him enter the room, and he jumps to his feet and stands almost at parade rest, looking at Tony with concern. He looks so genuinely guilty that Tony's anger abates a little. When Tony speaks, it's a lot softer than he thought he'd be.

"Explain to me why no one said a thing." 

Tony knows that the omission doesn't solely rest on Steve, even though he's been the one catching up Tony until now. 

"Morgan is the most important person in your life," Steve starts. "We thought that if there was one thing that might surface by itself, it was her. Until now, telling you things that happened didn't jog your memory. We thought cramming too much info at once might not be good, as the doctor said. We’d answer any questions you asked, though."

Which Steve did, while staying mostly on topic for whatever Tony was curious about.

"I think that’s a stupid way to go about it," Tony says anyway.

"Yeah, I see the flaw in it too. I'm sorry."

"I don't like that you guys decided what I should know or not." 

"I know. Believe me, I know. And there's much more that I need to tell you—"

"Like why we had no contact for seven years."

Eyes round, Steve nods. He looks scared and it's so baffling.

"You need to know," he says softly.

"I imagine it's not good?" Tony ventures.

Steve's eyes don't leave his. 

"No."

Tony wonders what he did that’s so bad that Captain America didn’t want to talk to him for so long. Does he really want to know right now?

"When are we due for the other planet?" he asks instead.

Steve frowns, confused by the abrupt change in topic. "A few hours?"

That's not much. Whatever happened, it's bound to upset him. It’ll be a distraction from the visit itself, which isn’t the best idea considering he’s already at a disadvantage with his memory loss.

"Are we good now?" Tony asks. "Did we get over it, whatever it was?"

"Yes," Steve says with enthusiasm.

"Alright." So Tony eventually earns Steve's forgiveness; that's great. It comes to reason that Steve will want to give it again. Hell, he wants to. It's clear as day. Tony drums his fingers on his sternum. "Okay. So it can wait until tomorrow." 

Steve blinks, surprised. "I'm not sure—"

"It can wait. I consciously choose to not know, ergo it's not your choice to hide it, whatever it is."

"Okay." 

Tony smiles encouragingly. "And you said it, we're good now. We got over it."

Steve smiles back, and it's heartbreakingly fond. "We did."

"So we will again."

"I want that. It's the only thing I want," Steve says, very earnestly.

It's a bit much, so Tony tries to joke. "Hopefully in less than seven years."

Steve lets out a nervous laugh. "Don't say things like that. And yes, please." 

"We'll be fine," Tony repeats. At this point, he's trying to convince himself as much as he wants to soothe Steve.

"Yeah," Steve agrees, his tone hopeful. 

It has to be enough.


	3. Chapter 3

Iantus is the opposite of Sovereign, as in the welcome committee is sympathetic and seems happy to see them. They’re also highly advanced as a society, in a way that makes Tony salivate: decarbonized economy, sustainable development, smart urban planning, nature conservation, you name it. From what the Iantusians have shown, everything looks perfect. It isn't, surely—that doesn't seem possible—but it gives Tony a bit of hope that they can save Earth if they get their act together.

"Don't be fooled by their manners," Nebula said before they arrived. "They would pulverize this ship and everyone in it if they felt that we were a threat. Not even Thanos dared to bring his armies here."

"And if they don't think we're a threat?" Tony asked.

"If they like us? We're covering our collective asses like you wouldn't believe," Carol said. "The Iantusians won't give their technology or weapons if they deem us less developed than they are. But they'll look out for us."

"Then we better make a good impression," Steve said.

It seems to be going well so far. In fact, the greetings and visits soon turn into a dinner party. Tony doesn't know what’s in that orange fruity drink they keep serving, but he hasn't felt this mellow in years. He can't say that he minds. Plus it works for everyone: he caught Nebula laughing earlier, which was amazing. The two captains also have reddened cheeks and are loose-limbed, so it affects superpowered beings too. Good, they all deserve a bit of fun.

It's late and Tony somehow ends up sprawled in a lounge chair, looking at the night sky. There are a few stars, but what he can't get enough of are the three moons that he can see without even turning his head. It's _amazing_ and he can’t stop grinning. It feels as if there aren’t any problems that matter anywhere. Everything is alright. With a giggle, Tony concludes he hasn't been this high in years. Maybe that’s behind the success of this planet: really, really good drugs. He sure hopes the morning after isn't a bitch.

"Your friend said that you are the foremost expert in green energy on your world?" 

"Mmm?" 

Tony turns his head to the right and sees an older woman, he'd guess in her late seventies, sitting in the next chair and gazing indulgently at him. He didn't even know he had company. It's only after a few seconds that he recognizes her as Chancellor Almar, a member of the planet's high council. 

"I wouldn't say the foremost expert, but I'm not doing so bad," Tony says, at ease. 

Or, to be honest, Tony thought he was the expert, but he just learned about Wakanda yesterday. He hopes to visit soon; it sounds amazing.

"That's good. I encourage you to persevere," Chancellor Almar says, amused.

"I plan to," Tony says. 

"From what I've heard of Earth, it seems similar to Iantus two centuries ago."

"I sure hope we turn things around.”

"If I believe your captain, there's nothing you cannot do," she says warmly.

Tony wants to ask which captain—he knew this would get confusing—but her eyes slide to the left and there's Steve, maybe forty feet away, sitting on the Capitol's steps and leaning against a column. Steve was looking their way but canted his head up to look at the moons and stars when caught. 

"He said that, huh?" Tony murmurs.

"He's very fond of you.”

"Seems like that, yeah. Which is nice. We didn't have a great start, to be honest," Tony says. And seven very difficult years too. "But we're good now. It's fantastic."

He's probably saying too much, but he can't be bothered. For a moment, he wonders if the Iantusians intoxicated them on purpose and if it's a way to vet them too. Sort of a lie detector.

"Glad to hear it. Again, we're very grateful that you defeated Thanos," Chancellor Almar says.

"It was our pleasure," Tony says with enough relish to make her laugh. 

"I can imagine. He was a monster. You're welcome to Iantus anytime you want.”

"I love it here. It's amazing. Too bad the commute is so long. Also, I have people back home."

"Children?" she asks, expression suddenly eager.

Tony’s heart swells. "Yeah." It's still surreal, but he does. "A little girl."

"Children are a blessing," she says, wistful now, and looking in the distance. 

Tony realizes with a jolt that he hasn’t seen any kids since they arrived. They've been on official visits and then a diplomatic banquet and party, but there weren’t any children in the streets either. Not even teenagers. Suddenly Tony feels a lot more sober. Maybe Almar reads the discomfort on his face because her expression turns wry. 

"You just realized, didn’t you? Most visitors don't, at least not at first."

"I probably wouldn't have if the subject of kids hadn't come up."

"True. I wasn't very subtle."

"Why?"

She sighs. "We are in very good health and therefore live very long lives. Several generations ago, the council implemented population control to keep the balance of resources. There is a lottery system for couples who want children. There are special neighborhoods, where young ones can grow up with friends, go to school, all of that. Just not in the capital."

In theory, when facts and needs are calculated without room for emotion, Tony understands the reasoning. In practice, though… It sucks. He can imagine that the lottery doesn’t grant many couples their wish for children, and he has a feeling Chancellor Almar is one of the people whose wish wasn’t granted.

"I'm sorry."

"It wasn't meant to be," she says with a shrug. "Tell me more about your daughter."

It blows that Tony has so little information himself, but at least he has pictures. He almost laughs. He's already one of those people who want to show off photos of their kid to everyone, and he hasn't even met the little tyke yet. Since Chancellor Almar explicitly asked, he figures it's not cruel to offer to show them. 

"Her name is Morgan. Do you want to see her?" 

"I would love to."

Tony eagerly takes out his phone and shows Chancellor Almar pictures and videos, proud as a peacock when she keeps praising Morgan. They've been at it for a few minutes when someone clears their throat, making them look up. It's Caly, who has been herding the Avengers around all day, looking sheepish but determined. Tony checks past her and sees that Steve has disappeared from the steps.

"I am very sorry to interrupt Chancellor, Mister Stark. The council is waiting for you, madame."

"Oh, all right," she says, getting up. "I am sorry, Mister Stark. I didn't see the time pass."

"I'll take it as a compliment. It was a pleasure talking to you," he says honestly. And not just because she appreciated his kid; there’s deep kindness in her and he can feel it.

"The same holds true for me," she says, squeezing his hand. "Take good care of your little princess."

"I will," Tony says.

She leaves with a wave, taking small, fast steps towards the Capitol. Caly inclines her head slightly.

"If you'd follow me, we'll rejoin your friends now." 

"Lead the way." 

**

He learns later that Chancellor Almar had been late for a vote to decide if Earth merited the title of "sister planet" and therefore the Iantusians' protection. A vote that went in their favor, which is even better news than he’d thought. Nebula explains that it’s very rare and extremely valuable. Just that, she declares, makes the entire trip a success.

"I'll drink to that," Steve says as they toast.

"Cin-cin," Tony says, bumping their glasses together.

They’re all tipsy, or high, by that point, and Tony just can’t stop smiling. 

"Do they sell this stuff?" Carol asks after upending her shot.

"I don't know about you," Tony says, "but I'm not sure I should bring it home. I like it a little too much."

He has a complex relationship with regular alcohol on Earth, and the lure of this juice would be hard to resist if it continues to deliver the happy chemicals.

Carol winces. "Yeah, I get what you mean."

There's a story there, the way she said it so knowingly, but Tony doesn't know her well enough yet to broach the topic and it isn't the time or place for it.

"Let's just enjoy it tonight then," Steve says, shoulder leaning into Tony's. 

The more the evening advanced, the more he's been encroaching on Tony's personal space. A slightly inebriated Steve is a touchy-feely one, it seems. Not that it's been unpleasant, far from it.

"Is that dancing I see over there?' Tony says, craning his neck. 

People are moving to rhythmic music, though it looks more like swaying from side to side, both feet planted in place on the ground and hands in the air. It reminds Tony of those inflatable arm-flailing tube men used as advertisements, but it seems as if the Iantusians are having a blast. 

"You're welcome to try," Carol says, snorting.

"Why not? It looks fun! Come on!"

He hasn't danced in years, at least not in a group like this. Before Afghanistan, probably. Carol shrugs and starts walking towards the dance area. When it seems as if Steve wants to stay behind, Tony grabs his hand and pulls. 

"Let your hair down a little! I dare you."

"Okay, okay," Steve says indulgently, following him. "I can't dance, not really, but this looks like something I can do."

Tony throws his head back and laughs. 

It's only once they reach the dance floor that the loud music hits them, which is quality sound design. At first they mimic the Iantusians around them, who look thrilled that they joined, and it’s a blast. No one looks self-conscious; they’re just getting their hands in the air and partying as if they don't care. The bass line is excellent, and Tony lets the music and buzz take over, eyes closed as he sways to the rhythm. It's addictive in its own right and Tony has always loved dancing, but when he opens his eyes, he's bowled over by how Steve is watching him. There's no mistaking it: for a second there, before Steve realizes Tony is looking back, there’s pure want written all over his face. It makes Tony's heart thud, hard, and he's rearranging everything in his head once more. 

What happened in eleven years for Steve to look at him like that? Sure, they got under each other's skin from day one; it was obvious to them and the world at large. There was animosity at first, then a subdued rivalry in the months Tony remembers, but there was a spark of _more_. Tony wondered once or twice if one day they'd end up kissing instead of fighting. But there was Pepper, until there recently wasn't, so it went nowhere. 

Unless it did? Maybe that's the big fallout. They may have tried for more than friendship, and it blew up in their faces. Right here and right now on the dance floor, Steve looks away when caught. It breaks the immediate tension, but a buzz remains under Tony's skin. He knows how to decode desire, and that was so obvious. And if Tony is completely wrong and they've never been more than friends, Steve has a hell of a crush now. It fits with the little remarks here and there, the compliments that made Tony fidget in the ship's kitchen that first day, and what Chancellor Almar said about Steve's fondness too. 

It's exhilarating, being wanted by Captain America. A huge ego boost, for sure. He might be old, but he's still got it, a thought which lifts Tony’s already high spirits as he continues to dance with even more fervor. Yeah, the orange fruit juice is still having an effect, but now that they've been exercising so to speak, his head is getting clearer. 

The honest truth is that Tony has a huge crush on Steve too. It bloomed the moment he saw Steve's smile when he came to after falling from the wormhole in New York. The man is absolutely gorgeous; anyone with eyes can attest to that. But he's also admirable in so many ways. Tony is convinced that everyone who gets to know Steve falls in love with him, at least a little. 

Near Tony, Carol is now shimmying in a more traditional dance style instead of waving her hands up. A young woman by her side looks delighted, and soon several dancers are cheering Carol on. Some imitate her with mixed success, which is hilarious. Tony can't resist and follows suit, and they immediately start dancing together. They're not even touching, but they’re focusing on each other and on having a blast. Carol's an excellent dancer, silly moves exaggerated for effect, and they’re quickly challenging each other. Tony's twist gets answered with disco moves, the vogue by Carol doing the hand jive, the chicken by swimming motions and Carol pinching her nose and simulating going under water. It grabs the other dancers’ attention, the Iantusians plus Steve and Nebula now forming a loose circle around them.

When Carol begins the macarena, Tony jumps shoulder to shoulder with her. The beat barely fits, but it doesn’t matter and the synchronicity of it makes the Iantusians cheer them on. A few of the onlookers try it, and soon it's like a mid-nineties revival. All of this fun is tiring, though, so at one point Tony wants a break and points at Nebula to pass the torch for a dance-off. To his complete surprise and delight, she picks up the metaphorical gauntlet and begins doing a very good robot dance. It's a total hit, but Nebula clearly doesn't enjoy being the center of attention and quickly points at Carol, who starts miming catching a fish.

Tony leans into Nebula as he leaves the dance floor. 

"That was awesome!" he says, hoping she can hear him over the music.

"Quill showed me. He thought it was funny," Nebula says with a small smirk.

Tony belatedly wonders if she's self-conscious about the mechanical parts that make up her body. "Do _you_ think it's funny?"

"It's fine." And it does sound like she’s fine. Thinking of it, she wouldn't have done the dance if she found it offensive.

"You were amazing," Tony raves, and it's cute how she ducks her chin a little, bashful and clearly pleased with herself. "I'm going to find something to drink."

Nebula looks at a table with the orange drinks and makes a face. "I think I had enough."

"Oh, me too," Tony says. Now that it's leaving his system, he's parched. Hopefully dehydration isn’t looming in his future. "I'm looking for water, if possible."

"I'll go with you."

The server they flag for their request bows his head and promises he'll be right back. Off the dance floor the music's volume is a lot lower, which is a welcome change. Maybe it's the drinks that are now hitting differently, it's late—whatever time it is—or it’s just his age, but Tony realizes he's tired. Nebula also seems exhausted and has tilted to lean into his side. When Tony curls an arm around her to show he's fine with the contact, Nebula delicately rests her head on his shoulder. There is immense trust in the gesture, which warms Tony right up. From the little he knows, Nebula has had a rough life. That she can take comfort in his presence like this is precious and can’t be taken for granted. Hell, Tony figures he might have the parental gene, after all.

On the dance floor, Carol has persuaded several Iantusians and Steve into a basic line dance. Steve is surprisingly inept at first, but he soon catches on and then follows Carol with ease. They’re having fun, being silly and playfully elbowing each other. If Tony hadn't caught Steve looking at him earlier, he'd wonder if they were an item again. And then Tony remembers how it's supposedly Rhodey who has a thing going with Carol... The sudden need to see Jim and lean on him as Nebula is currently doing with him is overwhelming. God, he misses his Rhodey.

"I was told you wished for water?"

Tony jerks out of his reverie to see Chancellor Almar hovering by his side with a tall glass of water in each hand. They almost shimmer like a miniature, proverbial oasis. The chancellor is smiling widely and Tony responds in kind. 

"Yes, that’s wonderful." He accepts the water gratefully, as does Nebula, distancing herself once more.

"You've enjoyed your evening?" Almar asks. Tony resists draining the glass in one go like Nebula, clinging to an appearance of composure. 

"Yes, Chancellor, we sure did. Everything was great. Thank you again for the honor of designating Earth a sister planet to Iantus. We're very grateful."

"I am very happy by this outcome too," she says, covering his hand with hers. "I think you Terrans will be good for us. Add a little spontaneity to our old ways," she adds, inclining her head towards the dance floor.

"I'm glad," Tony says. Embarrassingly enough, he then yawns so widely even as he tries to hide it with his elbow that it leaves him with tears in his eyes. "Sorry about that."

"Nothing to apologize about. It's getting past my bedtime too. We've had rooms prepared for you."

Probably for the best, considering how intoxicated they all are. They’re in the capital's center, a good hour's ride from their ship in the big spaceport near the coast. Also, now's not the time to fly a spaceship even if they wanted to leave the planet tonight.

"Sounds great," Tony says.

"Oh, water!" Carol exclaims as she reaches their table. She steals Tony's glass, which makes him sputter in outrage. He was drinking that!

Chancellor Almar laughs and gestures to the waiter to bring more.

Steve is flushed pink, either from the drinks or the dancing, or maybe both, and looks happier and more relaxed than Tony has ever seen him, which is a great look on him. He's always been so serious. They met when Steve was still traumatized from his icy nap, and the man perpetually carries the world on his shoulders no matter what. Steve might now be eleven years older than Tony remembers, closer to being middle-aged than in his twenties, but for once he looks young and carefree.

"It's been a wonderful evening, Chancellor," Steve says.

It pleases the lady greatly. "As I told Mister Stark, I am very glad to hear it. And you are welcome to dance until morning if you wish to do so!"

Tony is about to encourage Steve and Carol to do just that when he yawns once more. 

"Wow, it's not like me to be the first to leave a party, but I'm beat," he says. "I think I'm going to use one of these rooms you just offered." 

"Rooms?" Carol asks, tilting her head.

"Yes, of course," Chancellor Almar says. "We prepared accommodations for you, so you need not travel all the way back to your ship at this hour. Mister Stark, if I may." She extends an arm in invitation to follow her.

"Tony, please," he says, catching her hand and tucking it in his elbow as they fall in step.

"Then call me Mora," she replies, eyes sparkling. 

He thought he was the only one turning in, but the others are following them. Earlier Nebula looked just as tired as he was, which makes sense, but he doesn't want to cut short what has been an enjoyable party for Steve and Carol.

"You two can keep dancing, you know," Tony tells them.

"Nah, it's fine. I'm all danced out," Carol says, hanging onto Steve's arm.

"Same," Steve adds. 

Mora leads them to a small house in the garden, set up to host dignitaries.

"The Summer Pavilion should have everything you need," she says, unlocking the door and giving Tony the keycard. "You are welcome to join us for breakfast tomorrow, in the room we just left."

"Thank you so much, Mora, again," Tony says as the others enter. 

He squeezes her hand and brings it up to his lips to kiss. She shakes her head, charmed, and then leaves towards the party. Maybe it was rude not to say goodbye to more people over there, but Tony's got the feeling that if their chancellor is on their side, they’re alright.

When Tony enters the Summer Pavilion, he finds the others in a small dining area, jostling each other for glasses and access to the faucet. 

"Water?" he asks hopefully. He can't help but stare at Steve with his head thrown back as he drinks in long gulps.

"If you're done charming the old ladies, sure," Carol says, filling a glass.

Tony snorts. "I was just being nice."

"Oh, no, please continue," Nebula says, tone dry. "I've never seen a chancellor this smitten."

"Is that a joke? At my expense?" Tony puts a hand over his heart. He's very proud of Nebula right now.

"You did great, Tony," Steve says, snatching the glass of water from Carol and bringing it over. 

"Thanks." 

Tony drains his glass and wants more. Whatever was in that drink sure dries you out.

"We have a slight issue," Nebula says. She’s gone from one door to the other inside the pavillon and now has a frown on her face.

"What is it?" Carol asks.

"The Iantusians must think we’re couples," Nebula says.

Curious, Tony approaches and sees that there are two bedrooms, with only one enormous bed in each. He wonders what the Iantusians imagined couples were. They've been hanging out with each other without being with one person more than the others, in his opinion. It's true that earlier Nebula was resting on Tony's shoulder, though. It might have been misconstrued.

"I say we do like summer camp," Carol says. There's a mischievous glint in her eyes while she throws a look at them. "I therefore declare this to be the girls' room." She grabs Nebula's arm and drags her into the bedroom, throwing a cheerful "Goodnight!" over her shoulder before closing the door behind them.

Which leaves Tony with Steve. Considering what Tony realized earlier on the dance floor, it might be a golden opportunity, or on the contrary, the making of a disaster of epic proportions. But then Tony's body cuts into the overthinking as he yawns again. He's truly beat. All he wants right now is to go to sleep. 

"You heard the ladies," Tony says, shuffling into the room. The bed is huge. There shouldn't be a problem if they want to respect boundaries. 

In the ensuite, Tony finds light linen-like pants with drawstrings that will do well as pajamas. There’s a sonic shower like the one in the ship—too bad, actual water would have been great—and in ten minutes he's cleaned up and ready for bed. After another glass of water, Tony reenters the bedroom to find Steve closing the room's curtains. 

"Do you prefer a side?" Tony says, making a straight line for the bed. 

"Closer to the door, if you don't mind." 

That makes sense, a protector through and through. 

"Fine," Tony says, climbing in. The mattress is the perfect firmness, and he groans in contentment as he lies down.

Steve disappears in the bathroom, and Tony's pretty sure that his head barely has touched the pillow before he's out.

**

A sleeping Steve Rogers is devastatingly beautiful. He's on his side facing Tony, and the light sheet has pooled down to his waist during the night, leaving his upper body on display. That man is a marvel, and Tony is glad he has a rare opportunity to stare to his heart's content. Steve looks so young when sleeping too, without the furrow between his brow and his world-weary eyes. Definitely not almost forty years old. Then again, they've known for a while that Steve doesn't age as fast as normal people. 

Tony woke up feeling rested and not hungover, which he appreciates a lot. It's very early still, but he never sleeps much, especially when he's been drinking. He could close his eyes and try to go back to sleep, but he doesn't feel like it. This is nice, relaxing even. He can indulge in appreciating a gorgeous young man a little more. As he thought, the bed is large enough that they kept separate and probably didn't even touch each other, but Steve seems to have migrated closer to the center of the mattress during the night. He's curled towards Tony, a hand extended as if unconsciously reaching out for him. 

He wonders once more what the right move is in regards to Steve's crush. They have a complicated history, and Tony doesn't remember all of it. Tony likes Steve back, that's the thing. A lot. But he doesn't know if he has something brewing on Earth, no official significant other notwithstanding. What if Tony's on a break with Pepper, but there’s a chance that it’ll work again? Granted, that's not the impression he got from the texts and emails he found on the phone. Tony's probably single. And so is Steve. 

There’s enough morning light for Steve's eyelashes to cast shadows that Tony longs to reach out and gently swipe at with his thumb. His breath catches when Steve's eyelids part to reveal a soft blue gaze that immediately focuses on him. Tony's been caught staring, but he keeps his gaze steady, not trying to hide or pretend otherwise. It's a good thing too because the smile that blooms on Steve's face is beautiful.

"Morning," Steve murmurs, voice scratchy with sleep. 

He looks so fond, loving even, and it opens a pit of yearning in Tony's gut. God, he wants Steve so much, and it far exceeds physical attraction. At this moment, his soul longs for Steve's quiet strength, big heart, and everything else that makes this stubborn man exceptional. The way he's looking right back at Tony as if he's the best thing he's ever seen is a snare impossible to resist. It's the most natural thing in the world for Tony to lean in and gently kiss Steve.

For a moment, everything is wonderful. Steve pushes into the touch and brings up a large hand to delicately cradle Tony's neck. He kisses back and groans, low and sexy, which makes a shiver go down Tony's spine. But just as Tony teases the seam of Steve's plush mouth with his tongue, Steve rears back violently. He gets away so fast that he stumbles off the bed.

"What?" Tony asks, stunned. He scoots to the side of the mattress to see Steve lying on the floor, stiff as a board and panic written all over his face.

"We can't. We can't." Steve's looking at Tony as if Tony's going to attack him, eyes round. 

The mixed signals are confusing. "Why not? You want me. I know you do. You kissed me back!"

"Of course I want you!" Steve exclaims. He looks heartbreakingly sincere. "God, you have no idea. But not like this. Not when you don't remember everything that happened."

To Tony's horror, Steve is close to tears, distressed. Tony doesn’t want anyone to look at him like that and definitely not when he's just kissed them. Especially not Steve. Tony's stomach drops. Clearly the break in the texting is because of something huge. But Steve said they’re good now; he doesn't understand.

"What happened? What did I do that meant we didn't talk for seven years?"

Steve had brought up his hands to hide his face but freezes at that. "What?"

"What did I do?"

"You? You didn't—" He stops and grimaces, and yeah, Tony won't believe that this isn’t his fault. "It's nothing _you_ did. It was on me. Well, both of us."

Tony hates being lied to. "Yeah, no. Tell me." 

"I'm so sorry.” 

Steve looks so sad, and his apology makes no sense.

"What are you trying to hide? Tell me," Tony insists, and Steve's eyes snap up to his again.

"I don't want to hide it! Secrets got us in this mess in the first place. I swore I'd tell you. I wanted to yesterday morning, after we talked about hiding that you had Morgan—" 

Tony's never seen Steve like this, speaking fast and halted, almost babbling. It's painful, and Tony takes a deep breath to slow his racing heart. He tries to sound calm and collected. 

"It wasn't the right time then, and I'm asking you now. Please." 

Steve's eyes are still huge and full of pain, but he nods.

Tony sighs. "Okay, then come up here. It's stupid to do this with you on the floor."

Tony sits against the headboard, and slowly and carefully, Steve does the same.

"Come on," Tony prods. "You said we got over this, so tell me."

"We did. Okay, so here it is." Steve takes a deep steadying breath. "In 2014, I discovered that Hydra was alive and well, weaved into SHIELD, our government, and the World Security Council. Among other entities."

Tony doesn't know what he was expecting, but that throws him off.

"What?"

"Even Fury didn't know. Or if he suspected, which I think he did, he didn't say.”

"Shit." Steve gave his life to destroy Hydra. "But you learned about it."

"Yeah, through a series of events. When I got too close to the truth, Hydra sent an assassin after me: the Winter Soldier. James Barnes."

Tony grew up on stories about the Howling Commandos and Steve. He knows that name. "Like your friend Bucky?"

Steve smiles grimly, finally a little light in this confusing morning, but it doesn't hold. "Yeah, just like Bucky because it was him in the flesh. Hydra found Bucky after he fell. They brainwashed him and used him as a tool ever since. They'd place him in cryo between missions and reset his brain every time. He didn't know what he was doing."

"That's horrible." Tony can't help the shudder that goes through him and rubs at his sternum. That amount of torture for so long... He can't even imagine.

"Me, Nat, and Sam, a friend I met in D.C. who's in the Avengers now, we brought Hydra down," Steve continues. "We kind of destroyed SHIELD in the process."

"They deserved it." Not realizing Hydra was still active for seventy years is outrageous. "Did you save Bucky?"

"Eventually. But not right then; he escaped. He hid for a few years, trying to make sense of everything." 

Steve takes a pause, sucking in a shaky breath. The bad news is coming. Tony feels it, and goosebumps of unease erupt on his arms and neck. He stays silent, waiting.

"We learned that Hydra made strategic, targeted assassinations to further their cause all this time." Steve stops again and turns his head to look straight at Tony, his expression sorrowful. "I'm sorry to have to tell you this, Tony, but Zola clearly hinted that Howard was one of their hits."

It's like a direct punch to the gut. He blinks again and again, stupidly, trying to make sense of the words as he's transported back to December 16, 1991, learning that his parents died in an accident.

"But—" Tony saw the pictures. Hell, he insisted on inspecting the car. He wanted to know if there was a mechanical defect that could explain the crash (there wasn't). He's always blamed an inebriated Howard for the accident, even if his BAC was relatively low and not over the limit. So it wasn't Howard at all, and it shakes up decades of resentment. But Hydra didn't just kill Howard for politics or whatever it was. "My mom?" he asks, hearing his voice crack.

Steve's eyes are brimming with tears. "She was at the wrong place at the wrong time, a witness. They disguised it as an accident."

Oh God, his mom. Grief is a strange beast. It has the capacity to submerge you as deeply and strongly as when you've just experienced a loss, out of nowhere. And this is a tidal wave that makes Tony feel as if he's going to choke on it. He brings his knees up to curl forward and lean his forehead on them, breathing slowly through clenched teeth, hugging his shins.

"I am so sorry," Steve whispers. 

Tony feels Steve's hand rest tentatively, gently, on his back. He's so careful, as if he's worried he’ll be shaken off. When Tony allows it, the comfort grounding in this whirlwind of emotions, Steve rubs small circles between Tony's shoulder blades. 

"I suppose I didn't take the news well," Tony finally says. He's afraid he might shake apart.

Steve's hand stops moving and there's a long pause before he answers. 

"You have to understand that I convinced myself I was doing the right thing. That I was sparing you some pain," he says softly.

His answer makes no sense. 

"What are you going on about?" Tony asks, rolling his head to the side to squint at Steve. His face is blurry, and that's when Tony realizes he's crying.

Steve is pale as a ghost. He drops his hand from Tony's back, and Tony misses the contact immediately or at least he does until Steve speaks. "I didn't tell you."

"What?"

Again, something that doesn't compute. He's so tired of constantly being confused. 

"I should have," Steve says, solemn and contrite. "I’m so sorry."

"You knew someone killed my mom, both my parents—" Tony says, tone rising. He suddenly pauses as a few details click together. It unfortunately makes a perverse sort of sense. "It was Barnes, wasn't it? Who murdered them."

To his credit, Steve doesn't look away, even though he seems ready for his execution. "Yes." 

The low blow, that Steve hid this huge thing from him to protect his friend, hurts in an unexpected way. It's different from the grief; it ignites a blaze in Tony's chest that makes him jump out of bed and pace, furious. Fuck.

"Why the hell did you hide that from me?" He’s barely able to keep from yelling. It’s so unfair. "What gave you the right!" 

But then again, of course Steve's childhood friend is more important than him, he thinks snidely at himself. There was no way he could ever match up to that, and he just projected his feelings like the lovesick idiot he was. 

"It wasn't him," Steve says, keeping his voice measured and low. 

"You said that already!"

Steve explained that Hydra programmed Barnes, who didn't know what he was doing. It's horrific that he was used like that, of course it is. But the guy still _killed his mom_. Responsible or not, if Barnes was here right now, Tony isn’t sure that he could stop himself from going after him. There’s something dark and violent churning in Tony's gut that mixed with the pain, makes him want to hurt someone back. 

"He didn't have a choice—"

"Fuck, enough already! I know. I know that. Barnes isn’t directly responsible, fine. Hydra is. But he still killed my parents. That doesn't change. And what I can't—" He can't even say he doesn't understand. He does. Barnes above everything, but he still asks anyway, even knowing the answer. "Why did you lie?"

Tony finally stops pacing to look at Steve. His eyes and nose are red as he wipes below his eyes with the back of his hand. It's a weird time for Tony to note that Steve is an ugly crier. 

"It was a mistake. I know it was. I didn't want to hurt you like this, but I did. I'm so sorry," Steve says, voice hoarse.

It disarms Tony, the way he can’t bear to see Steve like this even if a part of him insists that Steve _should_ be this sorry. Oh, he's still angry. So angry. But seeing Steve this miserable also breaks his heart. He’s in over his head. Stupid of him to think this was just a little crush.

"What the hell, Rogers," he murmurs.

Steve flinches at his last name; it's the first time Tony hasn’t called him Steve since he woke up in the hospital on Banturia. Well, at least this explains why Carol said that was the way Tony addressed him. 

And to think Tony believed he'd gotten close to Steve. He had it all wrong. All the nice things Steve said, they were said out of pity for him and because he feels guilty for the lies. Okay, sure, maybe he has a bit of a crush: Steve kissed him back earlier with enthusiasm, after all. But they were never best friends. Tony feels so stupid. 

"I suppose that I found out, and then we didn't talk for seven years." 

Steve lets out a laugh that's borderline a sob even if he definitely isn’t amused.

"It was more complicated than that. But it's also a big part of it." Steve passes a hand over his mouth, then crosses his arms over his chest. It's not defensiveness, though, not really. More like a sign of stubbornness. "The Avengers split up over a disagreement about whether there was a necessity for oversight by the UN."

It almost makes Tony's jaw drop. They _split_ the Avengers over a difference in opinion?

"How the fuck did it come to that? I told you what I'd seen in the wormhole!" He's getting agitated, and his anxiety is flaring up just thinking of it. The worst is that it became a reality, didn't it? "And look what happened. Thanos came back, as I said." It's so ridiculous. He can't believe they split the Avengers. "Over oversight? That's not even a bad idea," he mutters the last bit to himself. 

Steve huffs because of course he'd catch that with his super hearing. "Yeah, well, I wasn't convinced it was a good thing, not after seeing how Hydra infiltrated SHIELD and the WSC. We had two camps and fought about it. Then you found out about your parents in the worst possible way."

"I'm not sure I want to know how." 

"It was horrible. I'll leave it at that. You were furious, and you tried to kill Bucky. We fought, us two against you. I couldn't let you kill him." Steve looks distraught once more, but it doesn't do much to soften the blow of hearing that. "So I left you behind with a broken suit. Another mistake."

There's a sour taste in Tony's mouth. Everyone leaves him in the end. Family, lovers, spouse, friends, coworkers, they never stay. Except Rhodey. More than ever, he misses Rhodey fiercely and wishes he were here.

"And then we didn't talk for two years," Steve says. "Until Thanos, when he was collecting the stones." 

"We fought him together?" If they at least were able to put aside their differences when the world was about to end... 

Steve looks crestfallen. "No, not that first time. I was a fugitive, with my half of the Avengers." 

Tony still can't believe they broke up the Avengers.

"Was Bruce with you?" It's a petty question, childish even, but he needs to know. The mere thought of it hurts.

Steve shakes his head. "No. He wasn't on Earth when the Avengers split. Neither was Thor. They came back at the same time as Thanos."

Well, at least there’s that, Tony thinks. Not every Avenger was against him. Maybe because they weren't there, who knows, but he'll selfishly take it.

"Anyhow, as I said the other day, we lost that first battle. You fought Thanos in New York and then on a planet called Titan for the Time Stone, but he won it. Thanos meanwhile made a portal to Wakanda for the Mind Stone." He pauses, distracted and with a thousand-yard stare. "We couldn't stop him. He got the stone, snapped his fingers, and that was it. We all lost." After another beat, Steve turns to look at Tony again. "Carol rescued you and Nebula from space, almost starved to death. You were still so, so angry at me." 

Tony grimaces. He knows himself enough to know he'd hold a grudge for something like that.

"You retired, married Pepper, had Morgan. You were out. After the Decimation, we tried to get on with our lives. Then five years later, Scott—another Avenger—got unstuck from the quantum realm where he'd been all this time and had an idea."

"The Time Heist."

"Yeah. We went to you because we knew if someone could figure out time travel, it was Tony Stark." Steve offers him a small smile. "And you did, of course."

"And we worked together again." After five more years of not talking, it seems. 

"Yeah. We finally made up. And since we were together, as we should have been, we won this time." Steve looks so earnest about it, so glad that they pushed past the bad blood between them, that it soothes Tony a bit.

It's a convoluted story and Tony is trying really hard to take it all in, but he can't help but come back to his parents' assassination. 

"I can't believe you didn't tell me," Tony says, more an affirmation than an accusation this time. "To spare me? Of course it hurts. And I'm angry. Fucking Hydra, Steve, and you didn’t tell me."

"I know. I'm so sorry."

"Quit saying that." Unsurprisingly, Steve feels guilty, but Tony wants to go over all the details before dealing with that. "How's Barnes?" he forces out. 

Steve blinks up at him, surprised. "Good, as much as he can be. He had the Hydra trigger words removed, so he's officially free of them, but he also remembers the full seventy years where he was the Winter Soldier. He's a mess, and sorry about everything too."

"I can imagine," Tony says with a wince. The horror of being used as a weapon is hard to understand. "Look, I feel bad for him, I do. But I'm not sure I'll be able to face him, not until I can wrap my head around this." 

Responsible or not, Barnes killed his mom. And dad. Whom he actually knew, back in the forties, so that must have been another mind fuck for the guy. 

A tear rolls down Steve's cheek, which rubs Tony the wrong way. 

"What?" he asks, curt.

Steve wipes his face. "I wish I’d just told you." 

"But you didn't," Tony says, snidely because he's hurt and angry that Steve is sorry in retrospect. 

"I didn't."

"Why did Hydra kill Howard, do you know?" Tony uses Hydra deliberately, to show Steve that he can separate things. Steve said that he had tried to kill Bucky, and maybe that’s why he didn’t trust Tony enough to tell him the truth, but he wants to prove to Steve, and to himself, that if he had just been given the space to process this information, he could have been rational despite his grief and fury. 

"He made a mock-up Super Serum. And Hydra wanted more soldiers like Bucky, so they stole it."

Another surprise. "He's a super soldier too?" 

"Hydra probably gave him the serum when he was tortured in Azzano. We figure it's the only reason he survived the fall from the train." Steve pauses, looking down at his lap. "I should have looked for him."

And fuck, that obviously messed Steve up, piling new guilt on top of what he already felt about Barnes' death.

"You couldn't have known," Tony says. He's calmed down enough to go sit back on the bed. "Tell me they didn’t manage to make more super soldiers with Howard's formula." 

Howard got his mother killed for this shit. The pendulum of emotions is exhausting.

"They did," Steve says, and that's an additional worry. "But they were eventually all executed, before we even reached them. As far as we know."

Tony relaxes a bit at the news. He rubs at his temples, a headache brewing that promises to be a doozie. His heart hurts too.

"I should leave, give you space," Steve says, already moving to get off the bed.

Inexplicably, it's not what Tony wants right now. He grabs Steve's wrist, and Steve freezes.

"No, don’t."

Tony's angry, still. Furious. But what’s certain is that Steve is full of regrets. On top of that, no matter the story he's been told, Tony knows Steve glossed over a lot of things. He can't imagine splitting the Avengers over a disagreement on oversight. It must have been more complicated than that. And if they actually fought? He would have had a reason. It convinces Tony that he's not white as snow in this clusterfuck.

"I know you told me to stop apologizing—"

"Please.”

"—but it's very unfair that you have to relive this twice."

It dredges up a snort of almost amusement from Tony. "Yeah."

They’re silent for a long while after that, Tony still holding Steve's wrist. The strong beat of his pulse is calming, but everything Tony learned is playing on a loop in his head and he hates it. He needs to process all of this information and hurt again. Which is definitely shitty even if he can’t remember the first time.

"If you want, I could tell you about Morgan," Steve eventually suggests.

The offer manages to make Tony soften. True, not everything in these cursed eleven years has been bad. "That... that would be nice. Please."

"She’s cute as a button," Steve starts. 

"I know, right?" Such a pretty little girl. Tony's never seen any cuter, though he is admittedly biased.

"Really sweet. And she loves you so much. You’re an amazing dad," Steve says softly.

"Yeah?" He won't say it out loud, but he's honestly terrified of fucking it up. He didn't have the best role model. "I wonder where I got that from."

"Wherever you did, it's working," Steve says, smiling at him. "You have such a way with kids. Peter also worships the ground you walk on."

"Peter?" For a second, Tony's frozen. He only has one kid, right?

"Spider-Man. He's what, sixteen?"

Oh, that's the teenager in the pictures with the spider uniform. Sixteen is better than his estimated twelve. "Spider-Man, huh?"

"He's great and a good kid. Extremely strong—probably the strongest of us all. Science whiz. He has web shooters he made himself and uses them to trap people or grab things, and he swings like Tarzan between buildings in New York." 

The boy sounds amazing. Tony already has a soft spot and he wonders if he became attached as quickly the first time he met Peter. 

"He looks up to you a lot," Steve continues. "You've been mentoring him. I think he's the reason you helped us figure out time travel, to get him back."

"He was lost in the Decimation?" 

"He followed you to Titan but was in the fifty percent culled. I think that was the hardest for you to deal with out of everything that happened. It's the first thing you said to me, after not seeing each other for two years. That you lost the kid."

Tony winces because that must have been awful if he was close to the kid. He can't believe that a teenager followed him in space to fight a mad titan. His death was on Tony, and he must have thought that then too if what Steve is saying is right.

"There's another boy you've taken under your wing. Harley. But I don't know him much," Steve says. "You can’t do much about Spider-Man, at least when he’s in the spotlight for being a superhero, but you're very protective of your kids. I saw Morgan for the first time when we went to ask you for help with time travel. The entire world knows that you and Pepper had a child, but that's it. The paparazzi fought to publish a single stroller pic from a visit to the pediatrician, and it was with a blanket that hid her completely."

"Are you admitting that you've been checking the gossip rags?" Tony teases.

Steve gets pink right away. "You know how it is; they’re everywhere. But not once did a picture of Morgan make it to the media. No special number in a magazine for your convenience, nothing." 

"No dog and pony show for her." Tony is pleased about his, and most likely Pepper's, life choices. "So you met her not that long ago then."

"Three and a half months ago. She's sharp as a tack, of course." 

Tony's not surprised. "I mean, Pepper’s her mom."

"She looks so much like you," Steve adds so fondly.

With all the heart-churning revelations of the last twenty minutes, Tony had almost forgotten about Steve's crush. It seems inconceivable now that they were kissing earlier. As Steve said, they had a huge rift for years... but they eventually made up. Tony doesn't want to experience deep resentment twice; it's already hard enough as it is. He needs to trust that he'd let go for a reason, and do that again as fast as possible. But he's not sure that he's ready to lock lips with the man again, as gorgeous as he is.

After a lull in the conversation that stretched to a minute or two, Steve fills the silence once more. 

"Do you know what says a lot about you and how great you are as a father?"

"Mmm?" Tony prompts. He's still working on believing the good father part.

"Morgan was happy to meet me. Even if we hadn't spoken in years, and I'd hurt you so badly, you never told her bad things about me. She knew about Captain America, and it was all the good things, not the bad."

"That's because you’re a good man, Steve, all lapses in judgment aside," Tony says, squeezing Steve's wrist. He believes that with all of his heart.

It makes Steve light up. "You sure call me a bullheaded idiot anyway and told me how you wanted to punch me in the teeth before. That you spoke well of me to Morgan means a lot."

Tony snorts. "She's small. Kids don't grasp subtleties."

"She's a wonderful kid. You and Pepper are doing such a great job."

That's another thing that's been bothering Tony. 

"Must have screwed up somewhere, though." Not even five years of marriage and it's over. 

Steve shakes his head. "No, that's not it."

It makes Tony scoff. "How would you know?"

"Pepper told me.”

"Did she now?" Tony asks, eyebrows raising.

"She said that you both tried to make it work, especially for Morgan, but you two have always been better as friends. Co-parenting was what you'd do from now on. I think she has a boyfriend, but I haven't met him."

Which is true: adding romance to his relationship with Pepper had been a complication, as much as Tony longed for them to work. He isn’t even shocked that she'd moved on rapidly and is happy for her since Pepper deserves the best.

"Why did she tell you that?"

Steve blushes again but doesn't evade the question. His pulse has sped up under Tony's fingers, and he wonders if he should let go of Steve's wrist.

"Probably because she noticed my mooning over you. She told me you might be single, but she'd always be in your life, and close at that. If I couldn't accept that, then I should forget even making my interest known."

"Wow, you're just putting that out there, huh?" Tony says. It is admittedly brave as fuck. And pretty thrilling, even though Tony's heart is too bruised for him to think about romance or sex at the moment.

"Yeah. Slightly ahead of schedule," Steve says, glancing sideways at him. "I hoped that this trip would bring us closer."

"Was it working?" Tony asks, curious.

"I think so. But then the Krees…"

"So back to zero."

"I wouldn't say that," Steve says, eyes straying to Tony's mouth for a second.

"I need time," Tony says. "And I believe we're friends again, but..." 

He's not sure he'd be able to trust Steve with his heart, after learning all of this. He should take comfort in knowing they made up, but emotions don't listen to logic. He really needs to process it all. 

"Of course," Steve says. "Take all the time you need. I understand."

Tony got over this anger and feeling of betrayal once; he can do it again. The circumstances are different too, as Steve was honest when Tony asked instead of hiding a devastating secret for years. But honestly? Tony would love for his damn memories to return and not have to start anew. The lack of progress on his amnesia worries him too. He hasn’t gotten a single memory back since he woke up in that hospital on Banturia, not even a flash of one. 

The sun is up now, and Tony hears movement in the kitchen. The girls are up. They're expected for breakfast with the Iantusians, so Tony will have to deal with his emotions later. For the moment, he’ll stuff everything into a neat little mental box and do what has to be done.

It's with reluctance that he finally drops Steve's wrist. It’s strange how he's still angry and hurt but nonetheless found comfort in the contact. Without daring to check Steve's face, because he can’t deal with Steve's feelings on top of his own right now, Tony moves towards the edge of the bed.

"Okay, time to go make sure the Iantusians are still our BFFs." 

Steve sounds unsure. "Maybe we can just leave for the ship."

"That would be stupid, and we're trying to not be idiots, Steve, at least when we’re dealing with aliens," Tony says, putting on his clothes from the night before. It's not ideal, with the smell of sweat mixed with something sweet, but they can't go to breakfast in borrowed pajamas. He should have put them in the sonic shower.

Steve doesn't answer, but he's dressing up too. When Tony enters the kitchen, both Carol and Nebula turn to look at him. The furrow of Nebula's brow, and the way she's trying to glare past Tony in Steve's direction, makes him realize that they heard part of the argument through the wall. It's slightly embarrassing, but there's nothing he can do about it.

"Are you okay?" Carol asks.

"I'm fine," Tony lies. He has a lot of practice pretending to be, though, which is what he’ll do.

He appreciates that no one calls him out on his bluff.


	4. Chapter 4

Tony can't look away from the pure mind-boggling sight of Knowhere through the cockpit window. He read the intel prepared by Carol and Nebula on the mining outpost so in theory he knew what to expect, but there's a difference between words on a screen and actually seeing the gigantic decapitated head of a Celestial floating in space. Clearly, it's the same for Steve.

"Jesus," Steve breathes out.

"I'm wondering if I passed out in the lab, and this is just a very convoluted dream," Tony says.

"I'd counter with me still being in the ice and my mind coming up with weird scenarios. But let's face it, I couldn't have thought of _that_ ," Steve says.

They enter the cranium by flying through what used to be an eye socket. It reveals settlements stacked all over, clinging to the bone in some places or to industrial structures that have sprouted in the skull with no visible organization. In between the turrets, landing strips, and buildings, little spaceships criss-cross the empty space while doing their business, adding to the chaos. They'd heard Thanos had badly damaged Exitar when he collected the Reality Stone five years ago, but clearly it's been patched up. The sight is extraordinary, enough to render Tony speechless. 

"If you'll pick your jaws off the floor, gentlemen, it's time to get ready," Carol says.

"Tell me again what we're doing here," Tony says. 

If her report is correct, this place has no government to speak of. It’s mostly composed of the workforce extracting material from the remains of the Celestial, which is illegal, and the society that built up around that industry. Which, Tony read, leans heavily towards excess in the form of many opportunities for intoxication and gambling and a blooming sex work industry. 

"What you said before meeting the Sovereign about it being a dick-measuring contest? That's exactly what we're going to do here," Carol says.

"The galaxy is vast, but stories travel almost as fast as ships do," Nebula adds.

"Especially in underground circles," Steve says. 

"So we stroll into this place, unannounced, and announce we're the shit. Got it." Tony replies. 

There won't be a welcome committee, but Carol says she knows a hot spot that will suit their needs and help to generate a good rumor.

"I was thinking of letting them come to us," Carol says with a one-shoulder shrug. 

"Someone will recognize her, or me, sooner rather than later," Nebula says. 

"Fans all over, huh?" Tony teases.

Carol winks. "I wouldn't call people who live here fans, per se, but sure.”

"I sure hope you know what you're doing," Steve says.

Tony does too. "And when they do recognize us, your brilliant plan is to convince the outlaws not to mess with us? Won't that paint a target on our back instead? Issue a challenge?"

"I don't think so. We put Earth on the map and they're curious already. If we play this right, they'll at least be cautious," Carol says. "A little fight where we kick ass is all it takes."

Maybe. Tony's not totally convinced; maybe lying low and playing stupid like they did with the Sovereign would be best. But they're here now, and they agreed to this mission before he lost his memories, so there’s little to do about Tony's doubts.

As suggested by both Carol and Nebula, they'll all be in uniform or in Tony's case, carrying the arc reactor to suit up later. They plan to stir things up enough for him to deploy the armor, in any case, since it's an impressive calling card. Make a show of it, not to hurt anyone but to make a statement. Tony spent the last two days of traveling to Knowhere playing with the armor, fascinated by the versatility of the nanites. From his perspective, it's a prodigious technological leap. Playing with the suit and its possibilities has been a godsend in distracting himself from his current stilted interactions with Steve. 

Once upon a time, Tony tried to explain to a therapist how his brain worked, and the best comparison he'd found was a computer. A good one, of course, with the perfect combination of CPU, cache, RAM, bus speed, GPU, and operating system. When Tony begins something, be it a project for Stark Industries or something Avengers-related, it's akin to starting a process and allocating part of his brain power to the task. What makes him extremely productive is that he's able to run several processes at the same time, consciously and subconsciously. 

For example, when he flies Iron Man, he focuses on the mission, sure. That's his primary task, where he listens to Steve's orders and fights accordingly. But in parallel, he's running his own odds on the best actions to take, with the information he observes in relation to the mission's parameters and known intel. On top of that, he can also assimilate and use the data JARVIS streams on the HUD about environmental conditions, his teammates' positions, et cetera. 

When he’s in his shop, it's the same. Tony has, on average, five to ten projects in various stages of completion and evolving at the same time. Plus the regular odds and ends for his private projects: armor improvement, bot maintenance, and like it or not, personal preoccupations dealing with people or emotions. They all use a portion of his brain and progress at their own rhythm, unless he focuses on something in particular. But what isn’t at the forefront of his attention advances too. If he gets stuck on a battery issue for the new Stark Phone, he'll move on to something else. And then, in the middle of writing code for a new sensor for his gauntlet, suddenly the solution for the phone battery will come to him, almost fully formed.

Technical stuff works better for the back burner, as Tony calls it, but it's also a nice place to shove emotions. They simmer there if he's busy enough with something compelling, and when he comes out of his work fugue, he has more perspective. It's not magical, unfortunately, so he's still reeling from everything he learned on Iantus. His anger has abated considerably, but he's hurt nonetheless. He's been avoiding Steve the best he could to prevent a pointless confrontation, but it's difficult on such a small spaceship. The forced proximity has subjected him to Steve's kicked puppy face and soulful eyes, and it's very hard to cling to his resentment. Not that he wants to wallow; he's just not able to skip over it either. 

But now it's showtime, and they've always worked well together, even when they butted heads at the start of the Avengers. No matter what happens, Tony trusts Steve to have his back in a fight. 

Nebula lands the Blaze on a rundown platform that already hosts a dozen ships that vary from shiny and new to the alien equivalent of being held together by duct tape and a prayer. There's curiosity from the few onlookers on the docks when they unboard, but Carol pays no mind to the staring and strolls confidently to what seems to be an airport hanger. Two huge bouncers are flanking the door: one is purple and the other honestly looks like Chewbacca. Tony is trying very hard not to stare and geek out.

"Howdy, boys!" she exclaims.

"No weapons allowed," Big Purple on the right says, but he throws a look at his friend after his eyes stop on the star on Carol's chest for a second.

"It's fine," Not-Chewie says after shaking his gigantic head. He has a big, booming voice instead of a shrill Wookiee chant. Disappointing, if Tony is honest, but it may be because of the universal translator they had implanted. "You're not here to cause trouble, are you, Captain?"

"Why would you say that?" Carol replies with a flutter of her eyelashes. "We're not here to _cause_ trouble, promise. Nice to see you too, Nama." 

Okay, so Carol is easily recognized, which plays right into their plan, but she could have mentioned she was on a first-name basis with the bouncer. Who looks like Chewie. Tony gives a mental command to his very cool glasses to film the guy, as it's imperative he shows Rhodey. But then again, FRIDAY has standing orders to record everything from this op.

Nama scoffs loudly, not believing Carol one bit, but with some affection. "Yeah, yeah. I still need you and your group to leave all weapons either in your ship or at the check-in desk. It has to be fair to everyone." 

"I'm certain many people are armed all the same," Nebula says as Big Purple passes a detector up and down her body. He gestures at her to go through and starts on Steve next. Tony's been focusing on Nama, but the purple bouncer is so tall and large, Steve almost looks like a child in comparison.

"We catch what we catch," Nama says with a shrug. 

He's scanned Carol—who is the weapon, Nama is perfectly aware his gizmo is useless—and now it's Tony's turn. Unsurprisingly, the little device beeps over Tony's chest. Knowing it was coming, Tony had already been unzipping his top to show the reactor's casing to the hairy bouncer when the detector beeped.

"And what is that?" Nama asks, tilting his head. 

Most of the nanites have been used to form Tony's street clothes: a zipped, lightly weaved red sweater under a black leather jacket, jeans, and boots. He left enough in the reactor to make it glow blue, though. 

"A fancy pacemaker, chief," Tony says. The mess of scars on his chest helps to sell that lie. 

Nama has also spotted Tony's damaged hand. "Are you Stark?" he asks. 

So it's not only Carol and Nebula's reputations that have reached this place. It's surprising, but Tony can roll with it. People have recognized him all his life; he knows the dance. 

"In the flesh." Tony extends his hand. "Tony Stark, pleased to meet you."

Nama's hand dwarfs his, maybe four to one. Tony acts as if it's not unsettling while being a little thrilled at the same time and keeps on his friendliest smile.

"Nama of Broldu," the bouncer says, giving him a shake. "My son and many more are back thanks to you, so the pleasure is mine."

"Glad of it," Tony says. He lets his smile sharpen. "Thanos had it coming when he messed with us."

Very few details of the two fights against Thanos, the one pre-Decimation and the one they won, have surfaced. The purpose of their current victory tour is to spin the final battle to their advantage, and they keep pretty mum on the defeat that came first. Tony read a compilation of the most far-fetched theories Carol has heard and it was damn entertaining. His favorite was how it wasn't the humans who defeated Thanos but Earth's terrifying fauna; stories about Australia must have circulated far and wide. Once Thanos was dead, the Avengers just had to grab the gauntlet and snap people back.

"I hope you enjoy your time in Knowhere," Nama says, and they're in.

The exterior resembles a rundown hangar, fitting the rough industrial neighborhood. The interior isn't magically more classy, which was to be expected. There's a counter to the right that at first glance looks like every coat check in a club ever, save for a wall covered with a series of lock boxes. Tony supposes it’s for weapons. Big Purple gestures to the man and woman working the desk who nod and then go back to their conversation, barely sparing them a look. Deemed unarmed and vetted, they then proceed to the main part of the establishment. It's a mix between a casino and a stripper joint, where small, dimly lit alcoves curling around mini-stages alternate with tables with croupiers and their players. Since the mostly naked performers in the booths use their preferred music at the same time, it causes a chaotic wall of noise that’s hard to describe. It isn't helped by the loud conversations and occasional cheering from the gambling spots. Tony catches Steve wincing at the cacophony of it all and commiserates. 

Carol seems perfectly at ease as she leads them deeper into the room. Tony wonders if she's an actual regular or if she's just faking it well. Steve follows, then Tony, while Nebula closes their ranks. There's a maturity in Steve's stance and walk that Tony hadn't noticed until now. He looks good, his steps wide and powerful, and it speaks to his experience and confidence. It's very sexy, and for the first time since Iantus, Tony lets himself openly admire the man. He'd despair that his libido is the first part of himself to get over the hurt, but he's self-aware enough not to be surprised. Frankly, Steve's strut wouldn't be out of place on a catwalk. When Tony averts his eyes from Steve's amazing ass, he notes that they've caught many patrons' attention. 

It's Carol who gets the lion's share of the stares, but there are curious glances for the rest of them too. Tony notices that they've crossed the room, which gave good exposure, and that Carol has brought them close to a side exit. There's an empty alcove nearby that she slides into, and they follow suit.

"I think this is going well," Carol says, sprawling back with her arms extended on the top of the booth like a queen holding court. There’s a smirk on her face, spelling out that she's looking for someone to challenge her.

"I think you're laying it on thick," Steve says. He and Nebula are sitting stiffly, scanning the crowd for any fools who would rise to the bait. 

"I ain't doing nothing," Carol drawls. "Just sitting pretty."

A charming, long-haired brunette alien with a bikini made of a cascade of delicate golden chains sashays to their table with painted lips and huge green eyes.

"Hello, strangers," she says, in complete seduction mode. Her outfit barely covers her four breasts and full ass, complete with a perky, little tail. "I'm Baylee. Can I interest you in a show?"

She's in Steve's bubble, a hand now on his shoulder. He might look perfectly fine with the attention to any strangers looking, but Tony wants to laugh at the way Steve's ears are pinking up.

"Sounds great, but not right now," Carol says. She pushes a little plastic card towards Baylee. "Flag the table as yours, though."

Baylee grabs the card and uses it to salute Carol. "Got it, Captain. Holler if you want me to come back." 

After touching something under the table that makes the stage-slash-table pass from being lit in blue hues to a deep red, Baylee winks at Steve and leaves in search of patrons in need of entertainment. Steve's shoulders relax a fraction and Tony has so many questions. He's lived in the twenty-first century for over a decade now. Surely Steve's used to being hit on at this point? Tony wonders if he's been in a few relationships, though now's not the time to dwell on Steve's romantic or sexual history. 

The plan is to, at one point, get into a fight. Carol assures them that it's just a matter of time as they happen like clockwork every night, but Tony doesn't want to play the waiting game. He's curious about this place and everyone in it who is so different from the snotty Sovereign and sympathetic Iantusians. The casino is filled with a surprising variety of shady-looking characters and clean-cut business types. They come in all shapes and colors too. There's a gambling table about fifteen feet to their right, and Tony can't resist its lure.

"Move over, blue jay," Tony tells Nebula, nudging her with his shoulder. 

"Why?' she asks with a frown.

Tony points to the table. "I wanna go check that game." 

"Navive?" 

She doesn't look enthused. 

"If that's what it's called, yeah. Come on, let me out."

Steve moves to get up too.

"I'm not sure—" he begins to say. 

Tony raises his hand to stop him. "Hey, no. I'll be fine. And if I'm not, isn't that why we're here anyway? I'll be right there." 

Steve listens and stays put but isn’t happy about it. Clearly he doesn't think Tony can hold his own, which is ridiculous. He has his armor, for God's sake.

"You don't even know the game," Nebula says, but she moves over to let Tony out.

It's a good point.

"Okay, then come with me, and I'll ask you if I have questions." 

Nebula follows Tony to the edge of the table where he sets out to observe first. It's a game played with metal tiles about as big as dominos. The engraved symbols on one side of the tiles aren't familiar to Tony, unsurprisingly, and there are at least six colors he can see right now. At first glance, the game looks similar to poker. A series of tiles are on the table near the croupier, and more are in front of the players, some faceup and the rest facedown. Six players are observing each other, in competition. 

"What's the end goal?" Tony asks Nebula. 

The croupier takes six new tiles from a distributing machine and aligns them in the center of the table. He lets three of them face down and turns the three others face up. Then, one by one, going clockwise, the players have their turn. The idea is to pick up a new tile, visible or not, from either the dealer or another player and then add it to their own lot. If it's from another player, that person can either steal from a fellow competitor which continues the chain reaction or from the croupier which ends the hand. If the tiles that move around were originally up, the players place them facedown and vice versa. Clearly there's a memory component to the game.

"Everyone starts with three up and three down," Nebula says. "There are as many rounds as there are players. In the end, the person who has the better hidden tile combination wins."

Tony watches a few turns and asks Nebula to clarify what are good and also less interesting symbols and what they’re worth. His questions have caught the attention of a friend of the player right next to Tony. It's a young man with an easy grin, a contrast to his pal who keeps scowling at the other players, especially when they take from his hidden tiles. After throwing Tony and Nebula increasingly frequent, curious glances, the onlooker chimes in with his own comments on the game.

"The best hand is an uninterrupted series, with all different colors," he says, leaning into Tony. "The higher the value, the better."

He stays in Tony's personal space after his comment, their arms brushing in a way that doesn't feel accidental. It makes Tony realize the guy is also flirting with him. Huh.

"Thanks," Tony says, checking him out a little more closely. 

The guy is cute, with nice shoulders and striking purple eyes and short black hair. He also looks about twenty-five years old in human age, and Tony is flattered but not interested. By his side, Nebula is squinting at the newcomer, distrustful. It's tempting to look back at the alcove to see if Steve has noticed and how he's reacting to the situation, but Tony doesn't dare.

"Not from here, I presume?" the cutie asks. 

"Is it me not knowing either the game or this whole numeral system that clued you in?" Tony raises an eyebrow.

"Something like that. I'm Tal."

"Tony. And yeah, pretty far from home. Earth.”

"Terra," Nebula clarifies.

That surprises Tal, who blinks, then gives Nebula a closer look. He only just realized who she is, and he's suddenly less languid and even more curious.

"We're simply passing through," Tony says, gesturing towards the alcove behind him where he supposes Carol and Steve still are.

"Oh," Tal says after looking over. His smile actually widens, so he's not intimidated by Captain Marvel. Good for him. "Welcome to Knowhere then."

"Thanks," Tony says. 

He turns his attention to the table again, where the game just finished. The croupier takes back all visible tiles, then everyone turns the hidden ones, including the house tiles. A woman to Tony's right cries out in delight, clapping. Her girlfriend, whom she'd been hanging onto all game —a lady with blond hair and shrewd eyes—has a lot of tiles with the same number. Nebula and Tal quickly explain to Tony what combinations are best while the tiles are still on the table. Again, there are similarities with poker, though having six different suits make the game more complex. It's soon confirmed that the blond lady won the round, and she passes a card to the croupier. When he taps it on a machine to his right, it projects a series of numbers in the air. The amount won, which earns her cheering and congratulations. And grumbling too, especially from the man with Tal.

"You've been lucky all night," he says, glaring at the woman. 

"Or I play better than you, Kol." 

The blond winks at him.

"Anjo is right about that, cousin," Tal says, shoving his shoulder.

"Shut up. Pure luck," Kol insists. 

Happy with her winnings, Anjo is gathering her things, ready to leave. She nods at Nebula and Tony in greeting, then tows her bubbly girlfriend away.

"I'd like to try a game," Tony says, sliding into her place before anyone else makes a move for the seat. "If you welcome newbies."

"Newbies are welcome if they have 5,000 credits," the croupier says.

Which is a problem because Tony has none. He makes a pleading face at Nebula, who rolls her eyes but reaches for her pocket.

"I'll put it down for him," Tal says, extending his own card to the dealer.

Nebula frowns and catches Tal's wrist.

"No, I can pay."

"I insist," Tal says, winking at Tony.

"He won't sleep with you," Nebula bites out, which makes Tony laugh.

"Neb, please. It's a sound investment, I'll pay him back," Tony says, beckoning the dealer to take Tal's card. "Thank you, Tal."

"Didn't you just say you've never played?" Kol asks.

"I think I've got the hang of it.” 

Kol scoffs. "Your problem, not mine."

The croupier—he introduces himself as Jarons—takes the time to align a series of tiles in the correct ascending order. He names them for Tony, who reassigns the symbols a value from one to twelve in his head. He'd memorized the order already, but he thanks the man who then dumps all the tiles in a drawer on the side of the distributing machine. After a minute of noisy mechanical shuffling, they’re on and Jarons distributes the first tiles.

It's been a while since Tony played for actual money and with an audience. He spent many nights in his dissolute past in various gambling establishments and ultimately ended up with an understanding with most of the big casinos on Earth. Tony Stark gives a show and attracts high-paying players and beautiful women who want to brush elbows with him. That the casino owners love. What they like a lot less is losing money. So they'd perfected their relationship: Tony would play a couple of rounds of poker, blackjack, or craps when he arrived because it draws a crowd, but never for too long. He'd then transition to roulette and eventually loiter by the slot machines because it's fairer to the bank that way. See, it's not that Tony tries or even _wants_ to count cards; it's that his brain does it naturally. Calculating the odds is as automatic as breathing, and he's really, really good at tracking who has what and the cards that are put aside. Or, in this game's case, tiles flipped over and moving between players. 

It's apparent right away that Kol is trying to collect a blue series, that the silent man next to him is completely disorganized, and so on. The croupier and other players definitely don’t consider Tony a threat, and he does his best to comfort them with that idea by hesitating from time to time before he chooses a tile. 

"Maybe you—" Tal begins to suggest, but without waiting for the advice, Tony flips a tile from the dealer. "Oh, bummer." 

It's a low number in blue, though, so Tal doesn't know what he's talking about. The card is perfect for Kol, who is squirming in envy and will therefore leave Tony's hidden cards alone. 

"Let him play," Nebula says, jerking Tal away. It's only when she does that that Tony realizes Tal was practically glued to his back. 

"It's okay, Azzurra," Tony murmurs, watching the game progress. 

Orange Lady on his left picks a tile from Kol, who without surprise steals Tony's newest one. It's exactly what Tony hoped for, and he takes a mid-level yellow tile from the dealer and puts it facedown. He's perfected his poker face a long time ago, and he hopes that it's as effective as it used to be because he's got a fantastic hidden deck right now. And there's only one hand to go. 

He'd almost forgotten about Tal, who is growing impatient at Nebula's constant interference with his flirting.

"See? It's fine. Are you his bodyguard or what?" he asks.

"And what if I am?" she replies.

"Hey, hey," Tony chides. He's so close to winning this thing, and he doesn't want a brawl to start _now_. "Easy, the both of you."

"If I were you, Tal, I'd worry more about blond-and-buff over there," Jarons the croupier says, entertained. "He's plotting your demise as we speak."

That distracts Tony for a second. Steve is jealous? He can't help but feel a thrill over that and lets his lips curl up. 

"Huh. Your boyfriend?" Tal asks Tony.

"Nah," Tony says, just as Nebula replies with a resounding "No."

The croupier puts the last six tiles of the game on the table, and for now there's nothing good for Tony. There's a high chance that one of the hidden tiles is a red "ten," and Tony really hopes someone chooses it. Kol starts the round, but the hidden tile he uncovers is a green "seven," therefore useless. But then Disorganized Guy turns over the red "ten," and Tony needs to distract the other players so they hopefully forget about it before Tony's turn.

"Anyway, I can take care of myself, thank you," Tony says, almost as an aside. He tracks what the two players before him do and times his next remark for when it's his turn. "I killed Thanos and his army, after all."

The effect is immediate. Everyone freezes and a hush falls over the table. Tony takes the red "ten" from Disorganized Guy, who is now looking at him with wide eyes, and puts it at the end of the row of his hidden tiles. 

"You what now?" Kol asks.

Tony gestures to Disorganized Guy to replace his stolen tile already, 

"Killed Thanos. And his army." Tony says with a shrug. 

"He did," Nebula confirms. Tony can't see her face as she's behind his left shoulder, but there's pride in her tone.

"Should have been you, darling," Tony says. 

Clearly, Tal finds the revelation to his taste because he's right in Tony's bubble again, daring to put a hand on Tony's lower back for an instant. It's been a while since Tony's been hit on this bluntly by a stranger, and he won't lie and say it's unpleasant. 

He's even happier when the game picks up once more, albeit almost silently, and there's only Orange Lady's turn left. She ignores Tony's tiles, which is great. Heck, no one but Tony and Kol seem interested in gambling anymore. Jarons closes the game when the last turn is over, picking up all the tiles that are faceup.

"Face up," he demands, determined to do his job even if the mood around the table has totally changed.

Deliberately, Tony waits for everyone to have their tiles face up before he uncovers his own. Kol is smirking, sure of his win by having an all-blue series of four numbers. Clearly, he doesn't care one bit about Thanos's death right now. It's with gleeful amusement that Tony reveals a series from the equivalent of the numbers five to ten, using the six colors. He hadn't placed them in order, and it takes a second for it to register with the others.

"So that's not bad, right?" Tony can't help but say, playing innocent.

Jarons is the first to catch on and he whistles. 

"That's more than not bad, newbie." 

"Oh, wow," Tal breathes out as Tony rearranges the tiles in order, and a murmur runs around the table. Nebula grabs Tony's forearm and squeezes, and he looks up to see that she has a proud look in her eyes.

Meanwhile, Jarons projects the amount of credits Tony won which attracts even more attention. Orange Lady is shaking her head in dismay, and most of the other players congratulate him on a game well played. 

Kol, on the other hand, is enraged. His face has turned brick red, and he stands up abruptly, pointing at Tony in anger. 

"No, that's impossible!" he yells. "Cheater!"

There we go. Kol is even more of a sore loser than Tony thought.

"I'm just good with games, pal," Tony says with a shrug, though he gets up too. He won't let the asshat loom over him. 

"He's a genius," Nebula pipes in.

That doesn’t calm down Kol the slightest bit. In fact, he takes a step forward until he's almost bumping into Tony.

"He's a fucking cheater," Kol accuses again, spitting mad. Quite literally, which is disgusting. "It's the glasses. He uses them to read the tiles."

Patently untrue, but Tony understands where the man is coming from. The glasses are wonderful, and though they can't see through metal, they could have helped keep track of who had what tiles. Not that Tony needed it.

"Hey, cuz, calm down," Tal says, trying to get in between them. 

When Kol reaches as if to take the glasses, Tony steps back, which has him smack into someone. The unmoving wall of muscles turns out to be Steve.

"Is there a problem?" Steve asks, looking ready to punch somebody in the face. Whether it's the actual threat—Kol—or Tal is hard to say. 

Steve's voice is a threatening rumble, which is pretty sexy. But the posturing is also unnecessary as Tony can take care of himself. He sharply pushes back so Steve gives him space and raises his hands up placatingly.

"Look, it's fine," Tony says calmly, as if unaware that the situation is akin to a gunpowder keg with a lit fuse. He gestures to the number still floating in the air, that by his estimate is in the range of five million dollars. "Do you want the credits? I'll give them to you. How about that, pal?"

They came to Knowhere, and this casino in particular, to pick a fight and cause a big splash. The story of Tony pulling off the best hand possible at Navive to everyone's surprise? It’ll make the rounds. Gossips will speculate about if it was or wasn't Tony's first time playing, for one. If he’s a newbie, heck, even a more experienced player, it shows he's smart and cunning. Many people, like Kol, will accuse Tony of cheating. That's a no-go for many, at least getting caught doing it. But what Tony is doing right now? Talking to Kol as if he's a child and offering a little fortune as if it's nothing to him? That’ll piss off so many people in a world like this. It works with Kol, whose eyes are now bugging out of his skull. He's so enraged that he's vibrating.

"I don't want your fucking pity!" he yells. "Who do you think you are?"

Tony is ready for the attempted punch when Kol throws it. He catches it before it touches his face with a newly formed gauntlet and holds it there, stopped cold. With an opening like that, Tony can't resist his next line. 

"I am Iron Man," he says, giving a command to the nanites forming his clothes to change shape. 

It's almost instantaneous. One second Tony is in plain clothes with a leather jacket, the next the nanites have reorganized and he's in his signature red and gold armor, without the helmet. Kol gapes at the transformation, just like everyone around them does. 

"Any questions?" Tony adds with his smarmiest grin.

You've got to give points to Kol that once he's over his shock, he isn’t intimidated at all and throws a punch with his free hand. Once Tony dodges and pushes him away, Kol roars and immediately comes for Tony again. Tal tries to stop him, circling his cousin's torso with his arms, but he's a lot slimmer and it's not very effective. 

"Fuck off!" Kol yells, which could be either for Tal or Tony. Or both.

"I've got this," Tony tells Tal, nudging him out the way so he isn't hit by a right hook. The punch lands on Tony's shoulder, but the armor absorbs the shock of course, and he barely even budges. Kol, on the other hand, shouts in pain as he probably broke several fingers.

"I can see that," Tal says, flushed. He's visibly very impressed and turned on at the development. "So, so cool!"

Tony laughs. "I know, right?"

Kol's accusations and attacks sparked a brawl, first around the Navive table, but it quickly spread out through the casino. On Tony's left, someone insulted Nebula by calling her Thanos's automaton, which made her snarl and attack. Tony's not surprised to see she excels at hand-to-hand combat. She’s wiping the floor with the asshole in no time.

"Why so angry, Kol?" Tony asks, because he's attempting to hit Tony again, now aiming at Tony’s head. As it often happens with an emotional fighter, Kol is predictable. It's easy to block every blow, and for the moment Tony isn't trying to end the fight and just pushes him around a little. It's clearly insulting to Kol so win-win. "If you wanted to dance, you just had to ask nicely. No need to say lies about me."

"Oh, I'd dance," Tal says while shoving away a burly man with green skin who decided he wanted to punch the stranger in the shiny robot suit too.

Steve, who's been fighting next to them and laying out people cold left and right, reacts to that. "Fuck off,” he says with feeling, scowling at Tal.

"No one asked you," Tal replies with an eye roll. 

Tony is both entertained and exasperated at them, but the brawl is getting more heated so he can't spare much attention to their cock fight. Ha.

Carol has joined the fray, not using her powers at the moment as far as Tony can see. The Avengers are back to back and fighting those who dare come for them. Kol has decided to vent his frustration onto Nebula, maybe thinking she helped Tony cheat, which won't end up well for him. 

"Now we're talking!' Carol says cheerfully, watching how mayhem has broken out all over the casino.

The fight has an air of a Wild West saloon fight from the Spaghetti Westerns Tony's mother loved so much. Maria Stark was a woman of contradictions: she was perfectly polished and poised when out in society, not a hair out of place and classically dressed. But once in a while she'd let her not-so-hidden fiery nature shine at home. Tony loved when his mom would make popcorn and they'd sneakily watch those old movies, just the two of them; Maria always shouted at the television during shootouts between the good and bad guys. He likes to think it would have thrilled Maria to see him—and she may have even cheered him on too—in an all-out brawl in a casino-slash-stripper-joint in space. 

"I'm happy you approve," Tony says. 

"Was it necessary to show off like that?" Steve asks.

"Ah, shut up. I know you love it," Tony says as he tumbles a man his way.

Steve snorts as he kicks the guy away, but he throws Tony a fond look. "God help me, but I do."

Tony grins. That's when he knows he's made an actual friend: when they’re not just tolerating his shit but also actively enjoying the ride and everything that he is.

"Plus, I know you've been itching for a fight, just to have an excuse to punch the pretty boy in the face," Tony teases.

"Maybe a little," Steve says. "Though it's hard to justify when he's helping us."

Tal has redirected Kol away from Tony and then Nebula, and even if he's not a skilled fighter, he can hold his own. It wouldn't surprise Tony that this is a great excuse for the people present to act on old grudges because a lot of patrons are enthusiastically targeting each other. A brawl like this, on the other hand, is an exercise in restraint for the Avengers, because they don't want to seriously injure or kill anyone accidentally. It's almost fun, until a sudden blast to Tony's right makes the Navive table explode into tiny pieces and has everyone startled. By reflex, Tony asks for the helmet and the HUD. 

"Hello, boss," FRIDAY immediately says. "Threat at five, seven, and nine o'clock."

Twenty feet from them, roughly in a half-circle, three pairs of fighters are marching towards them, paying little mind to the other patrons in the casino.

"Head's up at five, seven, and nine, heavily armed," Tony relays, charging his repulsors.

Five of the eight soldiers have blue skin, and they all wear black, green, and silver uniforms that are the same design as Carol's, star on the chest included. This is a coordinated attack.

"Ah, fuck," Carol says, getting in a fighting stance and facing the new threat.

"You know these assholes?" Tony asks. 

They’re being fired at, and the nanites shape into a blue energy shield that Tony uses to protect Steve and himself at the same time. That's new and came instinctively, but he's glad for it. Steve doesn't have his own shield, so he's practically defenseless (if that can ever be said of Captain America). Nebula is right behind them, so she’s out of harm's way too for the moment. 

"The Krees," she says.

"Are you kidding me?" Tony says. "Those pricks, again?"

"Like cockroaches." Carol bares her teeth in a sneer.

"Let's take it outside," Steve orders.

Most of the surrounding crowd ran for cover when the firing and explosions started, and some are going for the exits now. But the Krees are after the Avengers and Carol specifically, and there's no need to have anyone else caught in the crossfire.

Tony and Carol fire several shots at the Krees as they back towards the emergency exit. Now that she isn’t holding back her power, the photon blasts erupt from Carol's hands.

"Come on!" Carol yells to the four men and three women walking toward them, taking cover behind booths and abandoned playing tables along the way. "You want me? Then come and get me!"

The exit leads them to a large outdoor space littered with metal containers. Unfortunately, there’s also a small aircraft hovering in the air, waiting for them. It's locked and loaded, and the firing starts as soon as they get out.

"Fuck!" Tony swears, turning the shield to catch the blasts. He's torn between staying on the ground to protect Steve and Nebula and taking flight to attack the ship.

"Carol can take care of it with one hand tied behind her back," Steve says.

"Yeah, I've got it. I'll leave you the Krees inside." Carol says while rising up in the air. 

"Boss, there are ten more on foot outside too and rapidly incoming," FRIDAY says, tagging them on a map on the HUD. They'll join them in the back lot in a few seconds.

Nebula points at a small cluster of containers thirty feet away, which will at least offer a bit of cover. It makes a lot of sense to head there, so Tony nods in agreement. Nebula leaves the shield's protection straight away and sprints towards the containers. When Steve doesn't budge, still waiting for the Krees with his back against the wall next to the door, Tony extends his arm.

"C'mere," he tells Steve. "I'll fly you there too."

"No need," Steve protests, as bullheaded as ever. Tony isn't surprised, but it's exasperating. The Krees inside will be out in a few seconds; they were close behind them. And more are to arrive too.

"FRIDAY?"

"Yes, boss?" 

"Can I give this shield to Steve? Will it keep up?"

"If we turn it solid instead of energy-based, yes. But you'll have less nanites for the armor, so less protection.”

"I can work with that." Tony surveys the various levels shown on the HUD. "Hey, take this," he tells Steve once the shield looks like red and gold metal. Tony could have shrunk it and replicated the standard Cap shield, but he likes that this shield is large enough to protect all of Steve's body for once and made in Tony's colors.

"What? Oh, thanks," Steve says, sliding it onto his arm.

"Hey, big guy! Friend of Tony!" It's Tal, a few feet away, helping Jarons limp to safety. He tosses a ray gun to Steve, who catches it with his free hand. "You guys do Knowhere a favor and kick the Krees' asses, okay?"

"Got it!" Steve immediately fires inside the casino. "Thank you."

"Are you going to be alright?" Tony asks Tal.

"Yeah! It's not the end of the evening I hoped for, but that's life for you," he says with a mock pout, clearly taking it in stride.

"Life's a bitch," Tony says, laughing, then fires at a Kree right around the corner of the casino. He doesn't think it's necessary to say that if Tal had wished to end up in Tony's pants, he would have been disappointed even without the Krees showing up. "Hey Jarons, you okay?"

"I'm fine," he says between clenched teeth. He doesn't seem to appreciate that Tal stopped for a chat instead of getting out of Dodge.

"What I won, is it void now?" 

As Tony speaks, he follows Carol in the sky. She’s flying around the Kree fighter plane, not concerned at all that she’s being shot at as she weaves in between the blasts. She's slowly luring them away from the casino, probably to a place with fewer civilians.

"No, but I can’t cash it in for you right this moment," Jarons says, deadpan. 

"Give your boss what's needed to patch up the place, understood? We Avengers don't like having debts. If there's money left, keep a twenty-five percent tip and give the rest to Tal."

It makes Jarons’s eyebrows rise on his forehead. "Got it." 

"Really?" Tal says, looking delighted. 

"If there's money left," Tony confirms, aiming two repulsor blasts at Krees that FRIDAY detected behind the containers to the left. Nebula has taken control of her own adversaries in the cluster she chose for herself. "I'm afraid the Krees are making a mess."

"Thanks, Tony! Will you come back tomorrow?" Tal looks hopeful, which is quite the ego boost.

"Iron Man, there's a fight going on here," Steve interjects. They're back to back, having fallen into that position instinctively to protect each other. 

"I am aware, Cap, thank you," Tony says. "No, Tal, we're leaving. Take care."

"Bummer. If you ever come back, hit me up!" he says cheerfully, finally helping Jarons to sneak away. 

"He's what, eighteen?" Steve grumbles.

It makes Tony laugh. "I don’t think he’s that young, but yeah, still a baby. I was never interested. He hit on _me_ , Caparoni. You know how it is. Had to admire his game, though."

Steve makes a noncommittal sound that amuses Tony. Jealousy is kind of cute on him.

They stop talking about young strangers flirting after that. Their focus is on the problem at hand: the six Krees at the door, or nearby, and the eight or more outside. It's second nature to fight in sync with Steve, and they’re kicking ass. They don't even have to talk—just a nod or a glance, and they read the other's intentions. It makes for fluid fighting. Tony’s also having a blast pushing the nanite armor to do new fun and dangerous things. Anything he thinks up, it can do, or close enough anyway. 

By his side Steve’s blasting his fair share of Krees with the gun Tal gave him; he might not like that type of weapon, but he's a fantastic shot. FRIDAY is keeping count of the active Krees, and there are only two left in the casino. Six are still giving them grief outside, but that should go down to four momentarily, courtesy of Nebula. She is a ferocious and highly skilled fighter and found an electrified baton, of all things, to beat her Krees soundly with. They'll be an even darker blue in the morning. 

But Carol, though. Carol taking care of the Kree ship once she has it where she wants it is a thing of beauty. She’s lit up in an aura of flames, bright in the night sky, so powerful she's cutting into the little vessel like a hot knife through butter.

"Wow," Tony says, mesmerized by how gracefully she moves and the destruction she can cause by herself.

Steve huffs. "I know, right? Enough to feel irrelevant."

"You hold your own, old man," Tony teases. 

Tony thinks about what he just said—and how _he's_ ancient now—and winces. Not his best comeback. A sudden alarm and red glare on the HUD refocus his attention, but he's a fraction of a second too late. A concussive energy beam hits him directly in the helmet, and he's thrown violently against a wall. 

As fantastic as the armor is, it can't protect his squishy brain from bouncing against his own skull. The next thing he's aware of, Tony is flat on his back and blinking to get the world— currently pretty blurry—back in focus. Shit, his ears are even ringing. 

"Tony!" 

Steve appears in his field of vision, dropping to his knees by his side. He’s looming over him and Tony raises his hand up in an instinctive move to protect himself as his stomach lurches. Fuck, that's too similar to the end of the fight in Siberia, and Tony's heart is racing. 

"Tony, are you okay?" Steve's blue eyes are wide and worried as he reaches for the side of the helmet. 

_He's going to rip it off_ comes to Tony's mind before he shakes the thought away. No, they're not in Siberia; they’re in space, and there's a fight going on. Tony just got knocked around.

"I'm fine," Tony gurgles. He inelegantly crawls backwards to avoid the touch anyway and puts much needed space between them.

It was just a brief flashback or two, and even if it was unsettling, it was clearly due to getting hit in the head _again_. Now that he breathes in slowly, Tony realizes that he can distinguish that memory from the present.

"Are you sure?" Steve asks, still worried.

"Yes, yes, don't get distracted," Tony says. 

They’re in the middle of a fight, for Christ's sake. He doesn't want Steve to get hurt over nothing. But then Nebula appears, just as concerned.

"Stark?"

"I said I'm fine, guys," Tony insists. He checks the HUD… and the fight looks like it’s over. At least on the ground, since FRIDAY displays zero Kree threats at the moment. "Looks like you got them all." 

"There were a few left, but they cut their losses," Nebula says. "Flew away in a pod."

Tony cranes his neck to look at the sky and he understands why anyone with a brain who isn’t with them would bail. Carol is done destroying enemy aircraft and is suspended in the air, lit up on fire, arms extended. Everything in her body language is pure confidence with an underlying dare to any stragglers still around to challenge her next. 

"I think we have our statement," Tony says. 

"Yeah," Steve agrees. 

Tony smiles back. "And you accuse me of being a show off?"

"It might not be just a 'you' problem," Steve banters right back.

Yeah, no kidding. As if, among a long list of other things, taking down a jet with a motorcycle and then dunking three whole Helicarriers in the Potomac isn't grandstanding too. Tony's seen the footage. And huh, that's another memory back. He prefers it to the Siberia flashbacks, that's for sure. 

Casino patrons are coming out of hiding, now that the fight is over. It's interesting to see that it's not the fittest and scariest people who stayed, though there are several imposing beings around, but those who seem the cunning and curious type. Surely the perfect lot to spread word of the crazy Terrans. 

Everyone present watches as Carol lowers herself slowly to the ground. 

"Does anyone have questions?" 

Her voice is loud over the murmurs of the small crowd.

Tony gets back on his feet with Steve’s aid—he's a little shaken but alright—and with Nebula, they walk to Carol.

"Great job, Warbird," Tony says. 

Three heads swivel to look at him in surprise. 

"Not a coincidence," Tony says with a dismissive gesture. He just _knows_ he's called Carol Warbird before. Even remembers her pleased little smirk the first time he used it. "Looks as if stuff is now slowly coming back to me."

"See? You should have let me hit you on the head the moment you stepped foot into the Blaze." Carol grabs Tony by his armored shoulder and shakes him a little. "Good for you."

"Yeah, yeah." Tony is thrilled too, honestly, even if he tries to downplay it. He’s not sure what it was, the alien concussive beam knocking something loose or the visceral reaction he had to Steve over him unsticking a jammed door in his mind—which he doesn’t want to say out loud—but the memories are present again. 

There's no tsunami of memories. But if Tony thinks of Morgan, it's like an explosion of love goes off in his chest, a thousand times brighter than what he felt looking at the photos on his phone. He remembers vividly the feel of her tiny arms locked tight around his neck when they said goodbye before the trip, and it's as wonderful as it's bittersweet. _I'll be right back, angel. Be good for Mommy, okay?_. But it's not the time to prod his own mind since they have a mission to finish. 

"A word to your adoring fans before we take our leave?" Tony adds.

"Right," Carol replies. "Listen up! You might have heard about us. We're the Avengers, from Terra. There are more of us, a whole team. We reversed the Decimation, and we killed Thanos and his army. No one else, not even the Krees, will mess with Terra. Is that clear?"

There's a sustained murmur from the crowd.

"Good. It's been fun, as Knowhere is bound to be. See you around!" Carol salutes, goes into binary mode until she's aflame again, and takes flight in the direction of their ship. 

It's a dramatic exit, but it leaves the rest of them behind like idiots. Tony sighs and extends his arms. 

"Come on, I'll give you two a lift."

It wouldn't be practical in a fight situation, but he's certain that he can carry both Steve and Nebula for a short distance without a problem. Tony touches the shield that’s still in Steve's hand and immediately reorganizes it into stabilization winglets. It's a cool party trick for their audience too. 

"Don't drop us," Nebula says, climbing onto his right boot and hugging the armor's torso as Tony locks his arm around her. 

"He won't." Steve confidently steps onto the left boot when it’s his turn, arm thrown over the suit's shoulders as Tony embraces his waist in return. _A hug-and-fly_ , he hears in Clint's voice. 

"And ruin our intergalactic rock star image? You bet I won't drop you. I can't promise a super smooth ride, though, so hang on!"

Tony uses the flight aids on his back and winglets to aid the boots as he lifts off, holding his two teammates. With FRIDAY's help, he makes a beeline as cleanly as he can manage to the Blaze where Carol is waiting for them. Thankfully, it goes great, and Tony doesn't even have to worry about the landing near the loading ramp. 

"Let go; we'll jump off," Steve says when they're a few feet away. Which they do when Tony unlocks the armor’s arms, as graceful as cats. 

The suit reforms into civvies as soon as Tony touches the ground, and he strolls into the back of the ship with the others. Once the rear hatch is closed and they’re out of view from the audience on the ground, they turn to each other, pleased. 

"Attagirl." Tony raises his hand at Carol for a high five which she returns.

"Hell yeah, that was pretty sweet.”

"Great job, everyone," Steve says. He's as high on endorphins as they are.

"Agreed," Nebula says. "We should leave. Word of this skirmish will spread far and wide quickly."

"On it," Carol says as she leaves for the cockpit.

Nebula steps in close and grabs Tony's chin, peering into his eyes. She's frowning, definitely not happy he got hurt once again.

"How is your head?"

Tony rolls his eyes. "I'm fine." 

Steve also looks constipated—okay, concerned. "FRIDAY?"

"Boss has a mild concussion," the AI rats him out. 

"Okay, fine, I got hit hard enough. But it's a small one," Tony argues. Slight nausea, and the start of a headache already, but he’s ridden this rodeo more than a few times.

"On top of a traumatic brain injury seven days ago. Those things add up." Nebula’s lips are a thin, stern line.

She's not wrong, and he's definitely getting old for this. Plus they don’t have Helen Cho's cradle or that alien hospital's tech around to smooth the consequences.

"Fine. I'll go lie down in my room with the lights dimmed, no phone. Happy?"

"Never happy when you get hurt," Steve says. He looks heartbreakingly sincere. "You scared me—us—again."

The panicked faces of his teammates, including the distress clear on Steve's, just after the snap spring to Tony's mind. The memory makes him recall the immense pain that coursed through his body. It felt like lava overtaking his right side, starting at the hand wearing the gauntlet. But there was also the vertigo of being all powerful, how Tony saw all the tempting possibilities to revolutionize the world laid before him. It's a challenge to keep a neutral expression with that onslaught of memories; the others would interpret his reaction wrongly if he let all that show in the current situation.

"I swear it isn't bad," he tries to reassure them instead. 

"If you're sure," Steve says, doubtful.

"I can stay with you if you want," Nebula adds. 

Her protectiveness makes Tony's heart sing. They forged a bond when stranded in space and in the years since once Nebula got integrated into the Avengers. She's almost his second daughter, and Tony is so glad he remembers their relationship again and hopes more memories return to him soon. 

"I'm fine, Neb. I just need to rest a bit." He squeezes her hand. "FRIDAY will watch over me. She knows what to monitor."

She nods and after lightly tapping Steve's arm, to comfort him too, Tony retreats to his quarters to find the privacy he so badly needs right now.


	5. Chapter 5

The memories are surfacing more and more rapidly now. Only when Tony has the door closed and is flat on his back on his cot does he relax and allow the images and feelings to come back to him without restraint. It's disorienting; one memory makes him remember another one, and out of context some flashes are hazy and make little sense, but others are a lot clearer, especially when linked to powerful emotions. 

Morgan's birth. Morgan's first toothless smile, first steps, first time humming a tune—“Iron Man” by Black Sabbath, which he was elated about—everything Morgan and how he found proof that unconditional love exists because he'd do anything for Morgan. 

Remembering Pepper and their wedding but also their marriage falling apart. Working hard on believing it wasn't his fault. Remembering Pepper being a superhero.

Hugging Peter on the battlefield, reveling in the fact that he's solid and back and they really, really made it happen. Peter who is so good—the best—and somehow looks up to Tony, which means he must have done something right. Seeing Peter play with Morgan like a big brother. 

Almost losing Rhodey in Germany, but the renewed lesson on how fucking strong his best friend is. 

Natasha. _God._ Thinking of her hurts so badly, and he doesn’t know when he can think of her for more than a minute and not grieve.

Grief over his mother again. The horror of seeing her being choked to death on the tape, and the red mist that took over when Steve confessed that _he knew_. The misery in Barnes's eyes.

Slamming the arc reactor in Steve's hand. No trust, liar.

Agreeing to this space road trip and hoping that it would put to rest the last of the unease with Steve. 

Steve, who is both arrogant in his self-righteousness and infinitely selfless. The wonder on his face when Tony gave him back his shield. The fondness that swelled in Tony's heart over Steve's speech just before they left for the Time Heist. Steve being the first to reach him when the Benatar landed. Everything clicking into place when they fought together. Realizing Steve was interested in being more than friends by how he kept looking at Tony after the snap. Pepper and Rhodey coming to Tony about it too, like the gossips they are. 

Yes, there was bad blood between them and loads of hurt. But he remembers processing that hurt over time, moving past it, forgiving. And now there’s so much good. Limitless potential for more. 

It's liberating, realizing that.

Which brings Tony to his next move. Steve was right to stop them from hooking up on Iantus. Regaining his memories of the last eleven years, or at least enough to have more context, means that Tony can consider getting together with Steve with the correct mindset. But when all is said and done… knowing their history changes nothing. 

Tony wants Steve. Badly. And not just to finally resolve their almost-at-first-sight unresolved sexual tension (or because he's drop-dead gorgeous). No, he's liked Steve for a long time, before the drama, which made their falling-out even more painful. Tony would have never cheated on Pepper, but when they broke up he'd asked himself... What if Steve wasn't straight? What if Steve liked him back? Could they risk a relationship without destroying the Avengers if it didn't work out? And then everything went to shit, and the fantasy of building something with Steve wasn't an option anymore.

But now… it's a totally different ball game. Tony's single, mostly retired, and Steve is definitely not straight and interested right back. God, that kiss on Iantus had been perfect, until it ended abruptly. And most important of all: they might not have interacted much, but Morgan warmed up to Steve fast. She's Tony's priority now and probably forever, and Steve would be good with her—he's certain.

The numbers lit up on Tony's wall says it's four AM, but he can't wait for morning to see Steve. He's vibrating out of his skin, knowing that he can have him if he asks for it. Tony's head still hurts, and reminiscing has given him some emotional whiplash, but that doesn't matter one bit. He takes the time to brush his teeth, but then he's out on a mission, hurrying towards Steve's room. Tony wonders if Steve can hear the way his heart is beating against his ribs as loudly as the rapping of his knuckles on the door.

Steve answers after a few long seconds, his crisp edges rendered soft with sleep. His hair is slightly tousled, and the loose black T-shirt and blue pajama pants make him look mellow. God, he's gorgeous. Steve's gaze sharpens as soon as he sees it’s Tony. 

"Tony? Are you okay?" he asks, keeping his voice low. It's the middle of the night, after all. 

"Yes," Tony says firmly. 

He puts his hand on the center of Steve's chest and pushes him gently so he steps back. Confused, Steve goes with the movement, which allows Tony to enter the room and shut the door behind himself. Tony is brimming with nerves when he closes his fingers, trapping Steve's soft T-shirt in his fist.

"Turns out, resentment is corrosive, and I hate it.”

Steve gets the significance of his words instantly, blue eyes widening. Tony doesn't wait another second and surges up to kiss him. They clash a little too hard at first, but a second later they've synched up, falling into each other as if they've done this a million times. It's so _them_ that joy bubbles up in Tony's chest and he has to pull away because he's grinning too widely.

"Yeah?" Steve asks, hands on Tony's shoulders as if he doesn't dare do more at the moment. His eyes are intently scanning Tony's face.

"It all came back. Enough, anyway. And I’m not going to let it poison our lives for one more second. It took way too many years away from us, Steve."

"Are you sure?" Steve is so cautious. Afraid to hope, maybe.

"I’m certain." Tony lets go of Steve's shirt to cup his cheek. Steve leans into the touch, so trusting and sweet. "One hundred percent, darling." 

"Yeah?" he asks again, but a smile is blossoming on his face now, wide and happy. It makes Tony's stomach do somersaults. 

"Yep," Tony says, popping the "p" as he tilts his head up once more.

This time it's Steve who crashes his mouth down on Tony's with unrestrained enthusiasm. He closes his arms around him too, strong and solid, and it's _wonderful_. The deep, wet kisses are making Tony's head spin and he doesn't want to stop. They've had so many problems talking to each other over the years, but there’s no ambiguity here. They both need more, hands roaming over each other, trying to claim and give at the same time. 

"Come on, come on!" Tony bunched Steve's T-shirt up under his arms, but now it’s infuriatingly stuck. 

Steve raises his arms—finally—and Tony starts pulling off the T-shirt while pushing down Steve’s pants with the other hand. He can multitask if it means Steve is naked faster.

"Someone’s in a hurry," Steve chuckles. 

"Damn right," Tony says, grabbing a perfect ass cheek. "This is years in the making, by my count."

"Agreed." Steve steps out of his pants—revealing no underwear. Also that he's hung, holy shit.

"Gimme." Tony takes Steve's hard cock in hand and gives him a slow stroke from bottom to tip. Tony's fingers can't circle the girth, and it's hot as hell.

"Oh fuck," Steve says, words punched out. He shudders in pleasure.

"Look at you," Tony croons, pumping him a few times but letting his other hand roam over defined abs and bulging pectorals. "You're gorgeous _everywhere_."

"Tony, please," Steve says, leaning down for a filthy kiss again. 

He's trying to pull off Tony's clothes too, which is frankly unnecessary. Because it's not clothes Tony is wearing; it's his armor. He'd been so overwhelmed by the memories coming back when lying in his room that he completely forgot to change. A mental command is all that’s needed for the nanites to return to the reactor affixed to his chest. 

Steve freezes in surprise when the fake fabric shifts against him, but he leans slightly backwards to observe, eyes dark with desire.

"So practical," Tony says, cheeky. 

It makes Steve laugh. "Sure is. It's amazing."

Tony's always taken pride in his creations, and he feels like preening. The admiration is heady. In less than thirty seconds, Tony is as bare as the day he was born, save for the reactor.

"Not even underwear, huh?" Steve teases, his hands dropping to grab at Tony's now naked ass and pull him close. It feels fantastic, both the kneading and the friction on his cock as he bumps against Steve. 

"You're one to talk." Tony throws a pointed look at the underwear-free clothes on the floor.

"True, true. Though I put 'em on to answer the door."

"Sleeping in the nude? I approve."

"Glad you do," Steve rumbles against Tony's mouth before kissing him deeply once more. 

He guides them to his bed by walking backwards to it and pulling Tony along. When Steve reaches his destination and sits down on the cot, Tony continues with his forward movement to crawl right onto his lap. He doesn't stop until he's plastered to Steve's chest with both arms looped around his neck, which is a marvelous place to be. Especially with Steve's head tilted back to look up at him, adoration written all over his face. Tony must look just as sappy; he certainly feels like it.

"Hello, you," Tony says, carding his fingers in Steve's hair.

"Hi," he replies softly. "This is real, right?"

"It is, baby." Tony leans in for a brief peck.

"What do you want?" Steve asks, hands running up and down his back in long caresses that are lighting Tony up inside.

"You." 

That's all he needs. He doesn't care much for mechanics or specifics; he's sure it’ll be wonderful either way.

"You've got me. You've had me for a long time. But tell me." Steve looks so earnest, so willing to please. "I want to give you everything you want. Make you happy too if you'll let me."

It makes Tony's heart swell with love. 

"That's all I want too, sweetheart," he says, kissing Steve slowly and sweetly. When they break for air, Steve starts nipping and sucking at Tony's jaw and neck, which sends shivers down his spine. "That's—yeah, that's it. I'm easy to please; you'll learn that soon enough. If it feels good, and it's fun for the both of us, I'm down for almost anything."

"Good. I want you so much," Steve says. "I want to do everything with you."

Oh, he's all in favor of that. 

"Excellent plan."

"No special first time request?" Steve asks, sucking on Tony's earlobe. "Longstanding wish?"

He's fantasized about having sex with Steve a thousand times, but something reared up to the top earlier, pun intended.

"I haven't been fucked in, like, fifteen years, but I need that monster cock in me ASAP," Tony says, grinding forward against said dick. He wants it bad.

Steve laughs. "Is that so?" 

He pulls in Tony tighter against his body and moves his hips, pushing against Tony in a way that rubs their dicks together. It feels great. He's so keyed up from just kissing and a little frottage, which bodes well for the rest.

"Fucking you it is, then," Steve says, voice pitched lower than usual by desire. His pupils are blown wide, and Tony revels in knowing that he's able to turn Steve on that much. Not bad for an old man. 

"Hell yes." Tony pauses as he gets a sudden thought. "As long as you have lube?"

"I do.” 

Tony almost yelps in surprise when Steve rises from the bed as if he doesn't have a grown man on his lap. He's so incredibly strong that it looks effortless. Steve then turns sideways to climb back on the cot on his knees and gently deposits Tony on his back. 

"Show of strength and manhandling as a turn on. Check," Tony says.

"Good to know. And kink shared, by the way."

"I'm sorry, but I'm old and feeble in comparison." He could push Steve around a bit, sure, but only if Steve wants to move. Which admittedly can be fun too. 

"Don't say that. And, well"—Steve pauses for a second, his cheeks reddening—"there's always the armor." He bites his lip as his eyes drop to the arc reactor. 

Wow. Holy shit, that's monumental and Tony really, really wants to explore that idea in the future.

"Honey, I swear I'm going to take you _apart_ ," he promises fervently. 

"Yes, please," Steve says before kissing him. 'But now's my turn."

He presses on the wall for his own bedside drawer and takes out what looks like a brand new bottle of slick. Steve said he'd wished the trip would bring them closer, and Tony wonders if he packed the lube, hoping to get him in bed. Probably, and Tony likes that idea. He enjoys even more how Steve doesn't waste any time in wetting his fingers and caressing Tony's hole, a tease more than anything. It feels nice, but he wants to get it on already.

"Come on," Tony says, trying to push back against the digits. 

"There's no rush," Steve says, barely pushing in. 

Of course Tony needs good prep or that big cock won't fit without hurting, which no one wants. But there's being careful, and then there's being slower than a glacier. 

"Please, Steve," he begs with a hint of a whine. "I want you. Don't make me wait."

"I want you too," Steve says. "So much."

He finally pushes in his finger to the first knuckle and yeah, that's more like it. Tony is ready to plead again—he needs more—but Steve kisses down his body, intent clear.

"Fuck yes." 

Steve flashes him a smirk, then licks around the head of Tony's cock like a lollipop. It's a bolt of instant pleasure, almost too much, and Tony groans, throwing his head back. Fuck, he doesn't want to come right as they start. He takes in a shaky breath, then looks down again because he can't miss the perfect picture of Steve's pretty mouth circling his dick. And what an image it is. Who knew Steve Rogers sucked cock so well? 

"That's so, so good," Tony praises. 

The blowjob isn't all, as Steve is stretching him too, which only adds to the onslaught of pleasure. Those fingers feel huge, but he's gentle, at least at first. Greedy for it, Tony moves in counterpoint to Steve's movement, and they easily fall into a rhythm. And then Steve finds Tony's prostate, and that's almost his undoing. But it’s not, only because it looks as if Steve can read his mind and backs off when it gets too intense.

Tony's had sex with many people, and this kind of chemistry and instinctive understanding of a new partner is rare. But then again, he's not surprised—they've always moved well together on the battlefield. It's difficult to say how long Steve keeps Tony on the razor edge of coming; time is relative when so much is going on. But what’s certain is that Tony wants more. Now.

"Please, come on, fuck me. I'm ready. I need you," he says, tugging on Steve's hair. 

With a hard suck Steve pulls off, and even though he asked for it, Tony almost protests at losing the hot, wet heat around his dick. 

"I've got you," Steve says, wiping a mix of spit, precome, and lube off his chin with the back of his hand. He sits on his haunches, and that magnificent cock is just as hard as when they started, flushed red and enticing. He looks so wet too.

"Give it to me," Tony demands, making Steve laugh.

"There’s no—"

"Yes, there's a rush," Tony interrupts. "You don't want me to die, do you, Steve? Because that's what will happen."

"Not on my watch." 

Steve's grinning, though, as he squirts a big dollop of lube directly onto his own cock. He quickly spreads it and can't seem to resist fucking his own fist a few times. He's been focusing on Tony for a long time, after all. 

Then it's showtime, as he scoots forward and lines up, guiding his dick with one hand and gently petting Tony's leg, now hooked around his waist, with the other. Tony thought he was ready, and he is because Steve did a thorough job with the prepping, but taking his cock is still a _lot_. It's been so long since he's been fucked that Tony’s almost forgotten the feeling of intrusion before it turns really good. Again Steve is cautious, though, pushing in slowly while scrutinizing Tony's face for any sign of discomfort. It's his "I-have-a-battle-plan-and-I'm-sticking-to-it” expression, and a laugh bubbles up in Tony's chest.

"It's fine," Tony reassures Steve, squeezing his hand on the mattress. "Huge, but I like a challenge."

"You're impossible," Steve says with a hopelessly fond shake of his head.

Steve links their fingers together and then brings their hands up next to Tony's ear. Steve's bottomed out, and Tony wonders if his gut will ever be the same. He feels stuffed to the gills; it's borderline overwhelming. 

"Are you okay?" Steve gently pushes damp hair off Tony's forehead.

"Yeah. Just wait a sec." He _knows_ he needs to relax into it. He'll get there. 

"You feel so, so good. So tight and hot." Seve kisses him then, soft at first and then more forcefully when Tony opens up for him. There's a tinge of bitterness on Steve's tongue that Tony recognizes as his precome and it's incredibly erotic.

The kiss works wonders to unwind Tony. He experimentally starts moving his hips, and yeah, that's it. Less gripping, more sliding, and it goes from almost too much to really fucking good in no time.

"That's it," Steve encourages, mouthing at Tony's neck now. He sucks right over Tony's carotid, hard, and the idea of being marked by Steve makes Tony buck up.

"Oh God, yes," Steve says, starting to pull out and push in, giving into his need. Tony is all in favor as it feels amazing.

"Harder," Tony demands after a few minutes of slow and deep thrusts. Steve is steady as a metronome, and Tony's desperate. 

Pleasure is coiling like a spring in his gut, and it's good. So good. He reaches to press on Steve's perineum with his free fingers, to stimulate his prostate from the outside, but Steve swiftly captures Tony's hand to bring it up near his head too. Yep, manhandling is definitely working for Tony and he doesn't want to fight it even though he longs for a fist around his cock. Right now all the friction he gets is against Steve's washboard abs, which is fantastic but not enough. 

"You'll make me come," Steve says, as if it's a bad thing.

"I want you to come, baby." 

He can't wait to see him fall apart.

Steve fucks him faster and harder, ratcheting up the sweet tension more and more for Tony.

"Tony, Tony, I'm so close, God!"

"Touch me and I'm right there with you," Tony promises. It’ll take so little, and he knows it.

He doesn't have to tell Steve twice. Instead of letting go of Tony, though, he brings one of their joined hands down between them. Tony jumps on the opportunity to make a fist around his own cock, and Steve's big hand closes over it as they start pumping together. 

"Fuck!" Tony exclaims. It's so good and he's on the brink in seconds. 

"That's it, come on," Steve encourages, fucking in with strong but shallow thrusts. "Please, Tony, please, let go for me."

Tony's orgasm unfolds so forcefully that he spasms and shakes as it rips through him and makes his entire body sing. Even better, when he opens his eyes, he does so in time to see release hit Steve just as strongly. Even his "O" face is beautiful. That's how gorgeous Steve is. He fucks in a couple more times, chasing the aftershocks, but soon he lowers himself to lie on top of Tony, without his full weight as he's balancing on forearms planted by Tony's head. He's still holding Tony's right hand, but when he's wiped his other hand on the sheets, Tony’s free to trace up and down Steve's spine with his left hand.

After a moment getting his breath back while hiding his face in Tony's neck, Steve pulls up to look at him in wonder.

"That was amazing," he says.

"It was. But come on, you _had_ to know it would be mind-blowing." 

He's never doubted it. It was written in the way Steve moves, all grace and power, that he'd fuck like a champion. And with how they've consistently gotten under each other's skin? Yeah, it was a given.

"Oh, I knew," Steve agrees. 

He leans in for a kiss that is more emotional than lustful this time, and it's very sweet. Enough for Tony to risk going too strong too fast, but that's always been his M.O. in everything.

"I love you," he confesses. He can't—no, that's not it. He doesn't want to keep that secret to himself for one more second.

There's a fleeting look of shock that passes over Steve's face, but it soon morphs to pure joy. "Me too. I love you so much, Tony." 

He'll never tire of the way Steve says his name. And hearing that Steve returns his feelings, and that it's not just infatuation or desire, is the best feeling of all.

"Good." It's more than that—it's everything—but he can’t bring himself to say more.

He thinks Steve understands as more kisses follow. Then there's the uncomfortable uncoupling—Tony knows he’ll be sore tomorrow—and the hassle of cleaning up, including changing the sheets because the bed's a mess. But at last they cuddle, interlocking like puzzle pieces, and Tony’s convinced that's where he belongs. He's almost certain that he has all of his memories back, and he can't remember feeling this content before. 

Truly at peace and happy at last. Together.

They've earned it.

The End

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed!
> 
> How about that art! Isn't it great? I am in awe of their talent ♥ Thank you both artists for choosing my story and making such great art! Again, I urge you to comment on their posts (or reblog for Dragonk) if you can, and help me give them some love ♥ 
> 
> Amberdreams: [AO3](https://archiveofourown.org/works/27728161), [Live Journal](https://amberdreams.livejournal.com/654680.html), and [Dreamwidth](https://amberdreams.dreamwidth.org/929382.html). 
> 
> Dragonk: on [AO3](https://archiveofourown.org/works/27742204/chapters/67902868) and [Tumblr](https://dksartz.tumblr.com/post/635956960105299968/its-officially-our-posting-day-and-so-here-is-my).   
> 
> 
> I want to give a big shoot out and express my eternal gratitude to Nostalgicatsea who did a WONDERFUL beta job and improved this fic immensely. Her attention to detail and dedication is amazing. She worked with me on this fic following the Marvel Trumps Hate 2019 event, and I tell you, it was worth every cent I gave to charity for her auction (heck, it as worth way more! Thanks for the lesson, so valuable to me as a ESL person ♥)
> 
> Finally, a big thank you to the Cap-IM Big Bang mods for an amazing event, as always. When I can participate, it's always a highlight of my year.
> 
> I can be found on Tumblr [@gottalovev](https://gottalovev.tumblr.com), too. One day, I'll be more active there. Maybe. But asks, new friends and chats are welcome! I also hang out (aka lurk a lot) on the Put On The Suit Discord server, it's lots of fun!
> 
> I appreciate all kudos and comments, always. The pandemic has made it hard to have the spoons to reply, but I read and enjoy them all, and will react when I can, I promise. ♥
> 
> Thank you for reading!


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